


Blue Bang blue, Ruby Woo red

by HeartSabers



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Makeup artist Rey, Slow Burn, TV star Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-07-15 18:45:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 87,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16069067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartSabers/pseuds/HeartSabers
Summary: Rey is a makeup artist who has found a sense of belonging for the first time in her life. After years of struggling, she's been working for Rebel Broadcasting System for three years, and her life seems to be  sorting itself out at last. The network has quickly become her home; its cast and crew, her family. But her golden days seem to be numbered, as infamous interviewer and TV star Kylo Ren threatens to invade her safe haven in the aftermath of an incident that ostracized him from his original home, First Order Network. Leia Organa can't possibly look her in the eye and tell her she'll have to do Ren's makeup every single day for the rest of her career, can she?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, guys! This AU idea just came to me the other day and I had to write it down. This is my first fic. Feedback is very welcome!

 

 

It was high noon outside, but Rey wouldn’t have known.

Her room was still submerged in darkness when her phone lit up, painting the old furniture a shade of blue. She grumbled into her pillow, trying to drown out the unbearably upbeat tune of her alarm and the vibration on the prehistoric end table that rattled, threatening to give up and fall apart under the persistent buzzing. It couldn’t be time to wake up. She had slept for ten minutes, for crying out loud. 

Only she hadn’t. It was midday, and she knew any hesitation to wake up now would mean showing up late to work.

Again.

Grumbling louder and tucking her unruly hair behind her ear, she dragged herself out of bed one leg at a time, eventually commanding both to take her to the bathroom. The light blinded her for a second, but when she regained her vision, rubbing her eyes, the woman looking back at her in the mirror made her sigh. It wasn’t the helplessly knotted hair or the puffiness under her eyes that caused her frustration, though, but the redness that spread through her temples, blatant against her pale complexion. The tell-tale signs of having ripped latex prosthetics less carefully than she should have.

“Shit”, she cursed under her breath, reaching out for the mildest cleanser she had on the collection next to her sink. Still patting her face dry on a clean towel, she went back into the bedroom, reaching for the big silver case that sat under her old vanity.

The clasps came undone with a loud thud, and she opened the case carefully, kneeling respectfully beside it and fishing out a small white jar. She sighed again, dragging herself back to the bathroom. The La Mer moisturizer was only for clients whose bills justified the obscene amount she had spent on those 3.4 fl.oz, but she knew she would never hear the end of it if her skin wasn’t pampered today. Carefully taking a pea sized amount of cream from the jar with a brand new disposable plastic spatula, she applied it to her face, generously rubbing the skin on her temples.

“There, happy?” she mumbled as soon as her skin seemed to have absorbed all of the product, patting the reddened areas gently for good measure. She then returned the jar to her case, dragging it back under her vanity and reaching for the yellow Carmex tube that sat on its worn-out wooden surface.

“No makeup today, then”, she said to herself, applying the balm to her lips. Not until her skin decided she was forgiven, she thought as she walked towards the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee.

It was nearly one o’clock when she finally grabbed her keys from the coffee table and made it to the door, throwing her backpack’s well-loved leather strap over her shoulder. Scrambling for the right key, she threw a quick glance at the mirror that sat on the wall next to the door, scrunching her nose at the sight. She should have gone for something more colorful, she thought, eyeing the slouchy black and white striped t-shirt she had tucked into some comfy high waisted jeans. Maybe a pop of color on the shoes? She stared down at the black loafers she had picked out. No, they were way too comfortable. Sighing, she opened the smallest pocket on the backpack, pulling out a black bullet shaped object. Pulling the lid out with a pop, she twisted the base, getting closer to the mirror and carefully coating her lips in crimson. You couldn’t go wrong with Ruby Woo, she thought, shoving the lipstick back in its hiding place and finally making it out the door.

 

____________________________

 

 

The subway ride to Rebel Broadcasting System was long, but unusually calm in the early afternoon. When the train’s doors opened, she managed to grab a seat by the window, pulling her phone out of her pocket. The last creation she had posted on Instagram had earned more likes than usual, as well as a healthy amount of fellow artists tagging colleagues on the comment section. The comments and heart emojis made her grin from ear to ear.

It was a simple glam look that she had splotched with what looked like a huge watercolor stain, spreading from her right temple down to her nose, covering her eye. It wasn’t watercolor, however, but diluted eyeshadow carefully painted on with the most delicate of brushes. It had taken her hours to get it the way she had envisioned it, but she was proud of the result. Unfortunately, she couldn’t say the same about the damn Pan-like creature she had tried to create the previous night, which turned out horrible no matter how hard she tried to bend it to her vision.

She yawned, thinking about the four hours of sleep she had gotten curtesy of that monstrosity and opening the Facebook app. There were no important notifications, so she just scrolled mindlessly through her timeline, finally stopping when a familiar video popped up. It had been three months, but she just had to watch it every time it crossed her path. Kylo Ren’s finest hour. Coincidentally, it also turned out to be Kylo Ren’s demise.

She pressed play, and her traitorous lips quirked into a smile like they usually did when she watched that particular showdown. She couldn’t help it. Watching Ren trick Senator Moden Canady into admitting he used campaign money to bribe a former business partner who had been threatening to expose a money laundering scheme both men had set up in the late 90’s was way too satisfying. It was the only interview every citizen of Coruscant had gone out of their way to watch. It had been a scandal not because it revealed Canady was guilty, which everyone knew, but because no one – absolutely no one – expected Kylo Ren to go for the politician’s jugular.

Ren had carved out a reputation for being implacable on his interview show, of course. Merciless, aggressive, cornering guests at every turn and making them spill their darkest secrets unwillingly. Going on Ren’s show was suicide; declining that invitation was the same as admitting to cowardice, at best, or culpability, at worst. The poor victims had no choice. But there was always a catch: the guests were always handpicked from the long list of Thomas Snoke’s enemies. Public figures who dared criticize his network, old business enemies, political nemesis. As the president of First Order Network, Snoke treated the channel’s most popular show as his own little Colosseum, and Kylo Ren was his prized lion.

That’s why everyone’s head turned when the tall, brooding, permanently angry host did what he did.

Canady was Snoke’s old friend, the old media mogul’s most faithful mouthpiece in Senate. An ally. Everyone was ready to see a docile, lap dog version of Kylo Ren. What they got was admission of guilt on national television.

Rey smiled again as the video ended, closing in on Canady’s face, a vein threatening to explode on his temple. Maybe Ren wasn’t all bad, she thought, chewing on her lower lip. Or maybe Snoke and Canady had bad blood no one knew about? That was possible, but unlikely, as the infamous show was Ren’s last appearance on FON. He had been let go a week after the incident, following a conjoint statement according to which his departure was friendly and voluntary, stemming only for his will to work on personal projects. Rumor had it, however, that Snoke had blacklisted his former pupil on every network that had strings attached to his old, wrinkled, grimy hands. That seemed to mean every single network, as three months had gone by and Ren was still unemployed.

Every single network but RBS, the one Rey proudly worked for.

The president, Leia Organa, would never welcome Ren, though. Rey was sure of it. He had been the executioner of too many of her friends, partners and allies. The only way Organa would ever overlook that was if she cared more about Kylo than her political allies – if he was her own blood or something. The idea was laughable even in its unpronounced state. Rey shuffled in her seat, looking at her reflection in the window. It was for the best. He was crazy talented, no doubt about it, but he was obviously a huge jerk. And his was a late afternoon show, so Rey would probably be in charge of his makeup, and she was in no mood to be yelled at on the daily over concealer shades, thank you very much. Finally snapping out of her daydream, she looked up and immediately jumped to her feet, mumbling and apology to the old gentleman next to her as she sprinted towards the doors. She had almost missed her station.

 

_______________

 

Rebel Broadcasting System was an influential network, but you wouldn’t say so upon walking into their studios. Their furniture was practical and good quality, but old; their cameras and equipment were far from being top notch and Rey had had to smuggle many products from the makeup case she used for private clients into the one she was given at work. Leia had asked her for a list of the products she liked working with, but Rey had omitted some of the most expensive ones - even before she was hired, she knew RBS struggled financially. Their president was very picky about the sponsors she accepted, because she feared the influence they might have on the content she wanted to put out. Rey didn’t blame her – a quick glance at FON’s paycheck and at their content was more than enough to know Ms. Organa was absolutely right. Rey didn’t mind the rusticity of it all, though. It made her feel like they were all part of a rebellion, fighting for survival every day and trying to do what was right, not what was easy. The struggles also brought everyone closer together: she truly felt like for once in her life she had a family; a group of people that genuinely cared for her and had her back. She belonged here, she thought as she walked into the makeup artists’ lounge and opened her locker. The room was empty: the morning team must have already left, but her own people should be here. Just as she thought crossed her mind, the door opened loudly, as if she had wished her colleagues into existence.

“You’re late, Rey”, Rose Tico stated in a sing-songy voice, not a trace of annoyance in it. Rey smiled at her friend apologetically.

“I know. Sorry” she shrugged “Late night.”

Rose walked past her, poking her jokingly on the ribs as she made it for the drawers where they kept their brush belts.

“Hmmm, was it a mr.?” she teased. Rey rolled her eyes, but the third member of the team, Paige, spoke before she could answer.

“Yeah, our girl had a hot date with a pair of prosthetic horns. Look at her forehead.”

Rey’s hand went instinctively to her temples, but she couldn’t hide it from Rose’s quick eyes.

“Oh, Rey, for the love of God! I’ll buy you a big bottle of spirit gum remover for Christmas this year”, she said, throwing Rey her belt. She caught it midair, expertly securing it around her waist.

“It’s not that bad. And I have spirit gum remover”, she mumbled like a child caught red handed.

Paige kissed her cheek jokingly as she caught her own belt. “Well, then use it more often. It looks painful”, Rose’s sister said, as her sibling agreed with a vigorous nod.

“Is Finn ready for makeup?” Rey asked, desperate to change the subject.

“Yup, waiting for you in his dressing room. The guests will be here for us any minute now” Rose answered, organizing her own brushes around her hips.

“Good, don’t mess up anyone’s faces!” Rey sang, rushing towards the door and blowing her friends a kiss. They caught it midair and threw it back at her, making her laugh as she closed the door behind her.

Finn Trooper’s show was Rey’s favorite, even though she’d never admit it out loud. She lived for those two glorious hours of him cooking and somehow messing up every single recipe, but always coming out with something delicious in the end. Her favorite part was eating his dishes with the crew afterwards, of course, but she always cracked up at the jokes, innuendos and jabs he blurted out while cooking. She would never forget the day he patted the pale, wrinkly chicken he was going to roast, looking into the camera and telling his audience how important it was to season “mr. Snoke here” real good before roasting him, because they didn’t want him tasting like himself. It was a culinary stand up show, and Rey adored every second of it. Finn seemed to like her just as much as she liked him, if she could trust the huge smile on his face everytime she walked into his dressing room.

“Brawl with a bear?” he teased her this time, getting up to engulf her in a hug.

“Prosthetic horns,” she chuckled into his chest.

“It matches your lipstick. I mean, it’s a look”, he said, his smile widening even more. She shoved him towards his chair as soon as he let her go.

“C’mon, no time to waste. I’m late,” she ordered as he sat down.

“Really?? Hadn’t noticed!” he feigned surprise, raising both eyebrows dramatically.

“Oh, fuck you”, she laughed, opening her case and fishing out a bottle of hand sanitizer.

Rey’s job was tiring, but incredibly satisfying. She got to watch the shows from the sidelines, going up on stage every other commercial break for touch-ups. All the afternoon and night shows were her responsibility and she loved every single one of them.

Finn’s cooking, Gial Ackbar’s round table, Amilyn Holdo’s news broadcasting, Poe Dameron’s late night show – she loved every second of her working day, and she felt incredibly grateful for how much she got to learn. She was actually soaking up Akbar’s analysis on the Jakku crisis that very same afternoon when the show’s producer, Kaydel Connix, tapped her gently on the shoulder.

“Rey?” she whispered, covering the microphone on her headset and jerking her head sideways, signaling that they needed to talk in private. Rey nodded, following the woman backstage. The producer frowned when she finally got a good look at the makeup artist’s face.

“Everything fine with your forehead?” she asked. Rey nodded, feeling her cheeks warm up.

“Yeah, just a rash. It’s ok, really.”

Connix bit her lower lip, nodding. “Ok, if you say so. Listen, Leia wants to know if it would be OK for you to do one of Poe’s guests today.”

Rey nodded again “Yeah, sure. Which one?” she asked. She would usually be in charge of the host’s makeup, while Rose and Paige would take care of the guests, but it wasn’t unheard of for her to do a guest’s makeup if they were A-list celebrities or important politicians. She was the senior artist there, after all.

Connix’s hesitation to answer made her stomach churn with anxiety, though. Something wasn’t right.

“Listen, Rey,” she said slowly “This is very hush-hush. okay? Need-to-know basis.”

Rey agreed silently, bringing her hand to her mouth and biting her forefinger. Connix inhaled through her nose and exhaled through her mouth, closing her eyes. Rey's teeth bit deeper into her flesh when the answer finally came.

“It’s Kylo Ren”, the producer breathed out almost inaudibly.

Rey’s hand dropped to her side, and her jaw fell open. She couldn’t even feel the sting where she had almost drawn blood from her finger.

“What?” she mouthed breathlessly. Connix waved her hands.

“Yes, yes, I know. Plot twist. You can leave Holdo’s studio before the show ends, alright? Do Poe earlier than you normally would and then go to Ren. He’ll be in the VIP dressing room.”

Rey bobbed her head, eyes wide as the blonde woman squeezed her hand apologetically and walked back to her position.

It was just an interview. If she managed to be 100% rational about it, it was just a damn interview. It was surprising, though, because Ren hadn’t been seen publicly since the incident with Canady. An interview for RBS, of all places! She shook her head, trying to get back to reality. It wasn’t that weird. It made sense. He had to get back in the spotlight eventually. This was just a first step. Just an interview.

Nothing to worry about, she convinced herself, rushing back onstage to powder Ackbar’s forehead. But why on Earth wouldn’t her stomach stop turning, then?


	2. Setting spray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! Updating super soon because yesterday's chapter was just a prologue, but the updates should come once or twice a week from now on. Hope you enjoy this one! Feedback is very welcome <3

 

 

 

Doing Amilyn Holdo’s makeup felt like an out-of-body experience that evening.

Rey felt like she was in a dream, and the hands holding her brushes could have been anyone’s, really. Her mind was miles away. How had Ren convinced Leia to agree to this interview?

Did he have dirt on her?

Was she being blackmailed?

The mere thought made her blood boil. Leia didn’t deserve this. She was a fair, kind, honest woman who had welcomed Rey into her family like a long lost daughter. She didn’t deserve being cornered into giving that man a platform, the very same man who had taken some of her most cherished friends to the gallows.

Rey shivered as she remembered the day Finn had been invited to _Kylo Ren live_.

Of course they were going to go for him, the beloved Finn Trooper, Rebel’s most recent crown jewel, Leia Organa’s new protégé.

Rey didn’t work for the network then, but Finn’s show was one of the very few things that cheered her up when she was sitting in her cramped, dirty, mold ridden old apartment, waiting for her phone to buzz, for a client to come through. Someone. Anyone.

She remembered the day Finn had marched into Ren’s studio holding his head high. His confidence reassured her - she was positive nothing could go wrong for him. What skeletons could a comedian turned cooking show host have in his closet? Her heart had stopped when Ren casually asked his guest about his past in the military.

Rey had held her breath. What past in the military?

Finn’s lips had gone pale.

As it turned out, Trooper had pursued a career in the armed forces before going into comedy. It was meteoric, but short-lived: the young lieutenant had been discharged on insubordination charges and forced to completely recalculate his life plans. Rey would never forget the shame she saw in those gorgeous, kind eyes as they looked back and forth between the audience and the camera, exposed on national television. Finn had lashed out on a superior that constantly referred to him using homophobic slurs, and the man had made sure he payed for it with his career. The comedian had told the whole story three years after the interview aired in a beautiful public letter that marked his coming out.

He wasn’t a traitor.

He was a good man, and still Ren had publicly humiliated him. And now he had somehow clawed his way into Rey’s safe space.

It made her eyes sting and her throat itch.

“Rey?” Amilyn called softly, causing Rey to snap out of her internal rant. Only then did she realize she had applied enough translucent powder to bake a fucking cake.

“Oh, shit” she mumbled, brushing away as much powder as she could and then clumsily reaching for her Fix Plus, spraying a hefty amount on the news anchor’s face.

“I’m sorry, Amy. I have no idea what’s gotten into me today.”

The other woman just smiled kindly, patting Rey on her arm.

“Something you want to talk about? Anything to do with those bruises on your forehead?”

For the hundredth time that day, Rey cursed the moment she thought a top messy bun would be the best option for her hair when her temples looked like that. She had tried to restyle it after Ackbar’s show was over, but it was hopelessly tangled.

“No, I’m fine” she sighed, getting started on contouring. “I was just practicing last night and got lazy removing the prosthetics”.

Holdo grinned “I’ve been checking your Instagram. Your watercolor series is fantastic.”

Rey blushed. “Thank you. I’ve worked hard on it”.

The older woman nodded knowingly. “Your color palette is to die for. The way you use your pastels, the textures…. You’re really in a league of your own, young lady.”

Rey buried her face in her case, pretending to look for a different blush to hide away the moisture that suddenly invaded her eyes. What the hell was wrong with her today?

“Thank you,” she mumbled when she dared turn back, peachy toned blush in hand.

“It’s the truth.” Holdo stated matter-of-factly, allowing Rey to revert to silence.

A few minutes went by, and Rey was working carefully on applying individual lashes when Holdo spoke again, finally unable to contain herself.

“You’re off today, Rey. You’re never this quiet. By now you would’ve usually ranted about six different new products that claim to do things they don’t. Is it….”

She stopped, pressing her lips together and visibly pondering whether she should say what she was about to say. Her voice was lowered to a whisper when she finally decided to keep on going.

“Is it Kylo?” Rey dropped her tweezers and cursed under her breath as they clinked on the floor. She reached out for the spare ones on her belt, trying to buy herself time to come up with an answer. She couldn’t think of anything good, though, so she went with the truth.

“You know about it?” she whispered back, holding the tweezers tighter than strictly necessary.

Holdo sighed, leaning back on the chair. “Yes, yes, some of us do. Leia wanted to keep it on a need-to-know basis up until now.”

Rey nodded. “So I’ve heard. How did he get the interview? He’s horrible. He’s done horrible things to people that are important to Leia. To good people. To _Finn_.”

Something crossed Amilyn’s eyes, some shadow Rey couldn’t quite put her finger on, and then it was gone.

“Listen, you don’t have to be nervous about it, okay?” She reached for Rey’s hand and squeezed it. Rey’s chest felt warm and her eyes burned again. “He doesn’t yell in real life like he does on the show. He’s bizarrely quiet, actually. Probably won’t say a word while you do his makeup, honey. Not ideal, I know, but not the nightmare you’re envisioning either. It will be fine.” she guaranteed, stressing the last word.

Rey breathed in deeply and nodded. She couldn’t help but notice Holdo had dodged her question.

 

 

________________________

 

 

Rey couldn’t have told you what today’s news broadcasting had been about if her life depended on it.

She had done Holdo’s touch-ups diligently, but that was about it. The rest of the time, her mind was wandering through the corridors, checking if Ren was already in the building.

Could he be?

She searched every face that passed her by for signs. A producer walking by with a rift between his brows, a cameraman cursing under his breath, a stylist running out of the studio with wide eyes: every single threadbare occurrence made her heart skip a beat and her mouth go dry.

Was he in the same building as her?

Time dragged by more slowly than it would in the final minutes of a particularly boring lecture on a hot summer day. At some point, she decided enough was enough and pulled out her phone, opening the Google tab and typing in his name. She skipped the bio information and went right to the pictures. She needed to plan her work on his face, see if she’d have to borrow any products from her friends.

Several pairs of brown eyes stared back at her from her phone screen. Even in their pixelated version, Rey was convinced they could see right through her soul.

She tried to ignore the shiver that went down her spine, focusing on his skin instead. It was alabaster wrapped in velvet, pale and smooth, no big scar or discoloration to be seen. She wouldn’t have to pull out the big high coverage guns, then. Good. She hated them.

His brows were full and defined, but quite heavily drawn on. Not her style at all. She’d see what she was actually working with once he was sitting on her chair.

There was some pretty heavy concealing work done underneath his eyes as well. It looked greyish despite the heavy layer of product. Whoever had done this hadn’t color corrected first and had gone a shade too light. Nothing a thin layer of peachy toned concealer before his foundation wouldn’t fix, she thought, biting the sides of her thumb nail.

Her eyes then wandered to his lips. They were incredibly full, and there was a sheen to them she couldn’t quite place. Plain lip balm, most likely, as he didn’t need any filling or coloring in.

Shit, had they always been that full?

Her forefinger hovered above them for a split second, quickly moving to close the tab as soon as she realized what she was doing.

What the hell.

Another hour of pacing and breathing exercises went by before it was time to go to Poe’s dressing room. Good. At least her mind would be distracted while she was working. She was standing at his door before she could overthink it, and turned the knob as soon as his disembodied voice told her she could come in.

The room was very similar to Finn’s. Three chairs sat in front of a big, heavily illuminated mirror, and a long wooden surface stretched across the length of the reflective surface. A loveseat, a coffee table and a few chairs were arranged in a corner across from the mirror – the setup conjured up a little lounge. A small table was placed in the remaining corner of the room, and a few snacks and water bottles were spread out on it. Today, Rey’s eyes didn’t wander through the snack selection, though, wondering which one she’d quickly snatch with a mischievous smile before walking out the door. Her eyes were fixated on Poe’s face.

Poe was incredibly handsome – undeniably so. Rey always had laughing fits over the thirst tweets people wrote about him, but she did get to work on his face every day, so she knew the thirst was justified. His kind, piercing brown eyes sparkled and his smile could probably end a World War. It was wide, gorgeous and sincere, and it highlighted his chiseled jaw line even more. Rey didn’t know where the charismatic late night host that she knew and loved had gone today, however, for the man sitting in his chair didn’t look a thing like him.

He was smiling, but it didn’t reach his dull, hazy eyes. His eyes weren’t his own. In fact, you could barely tell how beautiful their almond shape was when heavy dark circles spread underneath them, making them appear a lot heavier and more sunken in.

Rey stood frozen by the door.

“Rey?” Poe called, raising an eyebrow. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, but what the hell happened to you? You look exhausted!” she replied, coming closer.

He just shook his head dismissively.

“Nah, nothing major. Rough night, that’s all. You can work your magic on these, right?” he smiled, pointing at the darkness underneath his eyes.

“I make you handsome on the daily, Poe. Is there anything I can’t do?” she teased, opening her case.

He threw his head back laughing, and his eyes shined almost as bright as they were supposed to.

She had to add a few extra steps to the concealing routine, but when she was done he looked a lot more like himself. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror, evidently testing out how to make it look more sincere.

Rey had never seen him doctoring a smile in her life. It made her throat feel impossibly tight.

“That’ll be it, then. I’ll get someone down to fix that hair of yours” she said just as he was fluffing out his beloved curls.

He frowned, biting back a smile. “Ha. Ha. Hilarious. Wanna do the monologue today?”

She smiled wide, scrunching her nose. “No, thanks, I’m good. I think you can handle it”.

He chuckled and blew her a kiss, thanking her for her time. She was almost out the door when he called her back.

“Rey?”

She turned around.

“You’re doing his makeup now, right?” She nodded, the lump on her throat doubling in size. He smiled, tilting his head slightly.

“It’s gonna be alright, ok? You’re awesome. Exceptional. No one can take that away from you.”

Trying to say anything in response would probably result in her letting out a sob, so she just faked a smile, nodded and reached for the door knob.

 

 

__________________________

 

 

So this is what walking down the death row felt like, she thought to herself as she walked the corridor that stood between Poe and the VIP dressing room. Her fist was clasped around her case’s silver handle so tight that her knuckles had long turned white, but she didn’t notice. She was focused on breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, counting to ten and not throwing up.

This was ridiculous.

She had had her fair share of tough clients in her life. Impossibly picky brides, bratty debutantes, prima donna super models, all of them incredibly rude. She could handle this, she told her stomach, but it remained oblivious to any rational thought.

“That’s it”, she whispered as she reached the dark blue door. She was going to puke on his shoes. She knocked once. “Come in”, an impossibly deep voice replied from within, and so she did.

He was sitting in his chair, legs crossed, skimming through notes. A strand of jet black hair fell over his eyes, and he smoothed it back with an open hand, running his fingers through the shiny locks in the process. He didn’t even look up.

“Hi”, she choked, her voice coming out hoarse. She cleared her throat.

“Hi”, she tried again. “I’m Rey. I’ll be doing your makeup today.”

He finally raised his eyes, but didn’t put the notes down. She could swear that his expression shifted for a split second the very moment their eyes met, but it must have been her imagination, because, as she walked closer, his features looked just as blasé as she recalled from the pictures.

He was painfully silent as she placed her case on the bench in front of the mirror, but his eyes followed her every move.

“Are you the senior artist here?” he said, finally putting his notes down. She knew where this was going.

“Yes, I am” she replied, tilting her chin up ever so slightly. He could see her profile clearly enough to notice her change in posture, she thought, fishing some products out of the case and carefully organizing them on the wooden surface.

“How old are you?”

Smooth.

She turned her head to answer this time. “I’m 26.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“How are you a senior artist?”

She felt her blood begin to boil. This man wouldn’t know subtlety or common courtesy if they bit him in the ass.

“I guess I’m just that good”, her mouth blurted out. He didn’t laugh.

Damn.

Damn ths insufferable man and damn Rose’s breathing exercises.

Ren leaned back on the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn’t dressed in his trademark jet black suit yet, but in a thin black t-shirt and jeans. Rey tried not to look at his arms, swallowing a lump in her throat. She had to think fast if she wanted to salvage this appointment.

“So”, she smiled, leaning back against the wooden bench and crossing her arms as well. “What are we doing with your makeup today?” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

He frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to be the one answering that question?”

It took everything she had not to roll her eyes.

“Well”, she said as gently as she possibly could bring herself to. “I have a very particular style, which may be different from what you’re used to. I just want to know if you want me to adapt my techniques to the ones they usually use in First Order.”

At the mention of his former network, he clenched his jaw and pressed his lips together, as if he was chewing on unspoken words. Oh, good. She done fucked up.

“No” he finally said in a voice so deep she was pretty sure certain animals wouldn’t be able to hear it. “Do your thing. _You’re that good_ ”. Sarcasm oozed out of his last sentence.

Rey felt her stomach churn. She bit the inside of her cheeks so hard she was pretty sure she could taste blood. Very well, then. She sanitized her hands and pulled out a makeup wipe, getting started with skin prep. When her hand hovered inches away from his face, she stopped.

The photos had been misleading, if not heavily edited. His skin wasn’t velvet over alabaster at all, but a reversed night sky; a constellation of dark stars over milky white. She could only imagine the amount of high coverage foundation and pinpointing with Kryolan camouflage it must have taken to hide all the beauty marks on his face for all these years. They spread across his cheeks and even his forehead, a plethora of multi sized little splotches of darkness against his pale skin. Whoever had thought it was a good idea to cover them up should be in jail, Rey thought, horrified. Then she realized she had been staring for longer that she intended, and he had his eyes fixated on her face, his expression hanging somewhere between puzzled and amused. She cleared her throat and started cleaning up his skin in gentle, upwards movements.

When she was satisfied, she reached out for a tiny glass flask, placing three drops of thick liquid on her fingertips and rubbing then together.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Pure organic cold pressed grapeseed oil”.

He arched an eyebrow. “Why are you applying oil to my face?”

She sighed “Because you have some severe dry patches. This is highly moisturizing. It will give your skin a glow and make the foundation glide on smoothly over those patches.”

He still looked skeptical, and her expression softened. The ghost of a smile even crossed her lips for a split second. “It’s not going to make you look oily, okay? Pinky swear. It’s just going to nourish your skin. You should apply it every day, actually. It would make a huge difference”.

He still didn’t look convinced.

“Do _you_ use it every day?” he retorted. And there it was again, the urge to roll her eyes into her skull. She repressed it.

“Yes, I do. Equal parts of jojoba, grape seed and rosehip twice a day, My own little concoction.” God knew it was what got her skin through all of the crap she pulled on it.

“Isn’t it what caused that huge rash?” he asked, pointing at her forehead.

She could have punched him right then and there.

“It’s not a rash” she replied, her voice coming out louder than she anticipated. “And this is not your talk show, mr. Ren.” She tried to make it sound playful, but it came out bitter. “So let’s get this makeup done, shall we?” He didn’t resist again, so she just went ahead with her ritual.

Rey was professionally trained and highly experienced in spite of her young age. She had worked with very important people, been put in a vast array of tough situations and getting the prestigious certificate that sat on a wall in her apartment had cost her more than she wanted to think about. But nothing in the world could have prepared her for what happened when her oil-covered fingers touched his face, starting to work the product into his skin. It was as if she had touched a live wire. She didn’t feel the shock or the pain, though. Only the electricity. The weight on her chest, the heat spreading through her limbs, the bizarre feeling of every single hair in her body standing up at the same time. What the hell had she done wrong?

He frowned immediately, jerking his head away.

“Do you always apply stuff with your bare hands?” he barked, breathing heavily.

“You just saw me sanitize them”, she defended herself, also having trouble breathing. She knew it wasn’t exactly orthodox, but there was no other way of applying oils to the skin properly. The heat of one’s hand was essential.

“Can you please just use a sponge, or rubber, or whatever it’s called?”

She recoiled and her eyes narrowed. She had a gut feeling he knew perfectly well what a Beauty Blender was called, but didn’t say a word as she cleaned her hands on a wet wipe. There was no way in hell she was going to ruin a 20 dollar sponge dabbing it in oils it would never be able to work into this asshole’s skin. She just wiped his face clean again, reaching for her trusty Bobbi Brown moisturizer that worked so well with the blender.

She was able to do his entire skin in complete silence. He wouldn’t take his eyes off her, though, and she wished he would. Was he waiting for her to irredeemably mess up? Would he try to get her fired? She dug her teeth into her lower lips, concentrating as she reached for a clean spooly and a bar of glycerin soap. She sprayed some thermal water on the spooly and rubbed it against the soap until the paste that coated the bristles looked just right, and then she got into position again.

“What are you doing?” he asked, leaning back and away from her hands. She sighed heavily.

“Your brows.”

“With soap?” He looked shocked. Oh, there! Grumpy could feel other emotions, then.

“Yes, with soap. Can I do my job, please?”

He wiggled in his chair, looking reluctant, but let her approach. She had been right. They did draw his brows on way too harshly for her taste on TV. Their natural state looked much better. They weren’t actually too thick or too defined and didn’t really have a dramatic natural arch, which made them look much straighter than they did when they were filled in. It suited his face a lot better, making it look more delicate and more striking at the same time. His eyes also stood out even more, she couldn’t help but notice. She cleared her throat, brushing through the hairs with her soap-coated spooly. A little bit of sculpting was all these brows needed, no filling in required.

Five minutes later, she drew in a breath of relief. There, she had survived. Setting spray was all that stood between her and a Kylo-Ren-free life. She could dance with relief. As she was looking for the tin bottle, though, he spoke again.

“You’re not wearing any makeup.”

She blinked.

“What?”

“You’re not wearing any makeup”, he repeated. She couldn’t believe her ears.

“I’m wearing bright red lipstick, _sir._ ” The last word dripped with sarcasm.

“Yes, you are.” He said, scratching his chin. “But nothing on the rest of your face.” He pointed at it, drawing a circle with his finger as if to let her know where her face was. She had no fucking idea what he meant by this.

“Does it offend you?” she asked, feeling her nostrils flare out.

“No.” he stated matter-of-factly. “Just pointing it out. Most makeup artists I know love wearing makeup. It’s weird, making a career out of it and not wearing it yourself. That’s all.”

What. The. Hell.

“Well” she struggled to keep her voice level. “I do love wearing makeup. And experimenting with it. So much so that I put my skin through a lot of shit, and it asks for a breather sometimes.” She panted. What was she doing? She didn’t owe him an explanation.

He hummed, tracing his jawline with his forefinger. “Asks for?” he repeated. “It talks to you?”

“Yes. Yes, it does.” she clapped back, her patience wearing dangerously thin. “Was that all, sir?”

“Do you ever wear any foundation?” he asked absent mindedly, ignoring her question.

She snapped her case shut and growled.

“Does a pilot take a plane to get groceries down the street, Mr. Ren? Does a baker eat nothing but bread his entire life? Do _you_ walk around barking at innocent souls in Walmart and asking them about their tax returns? I may walk around in no makeup today and in full drag tomorrow. _I do as I damn well please_ ”.

There, she had gone too far. It might very well cost her this job. She braced herself for his anger, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly, but it never came.

He looked at her in awe instead, as a man would look at a mighty storm that approached on the horizon or at monster waves that crashed upon a shore. She swallowed hard.

“Well”, she put her hands on her waist. “We’re done here. Take a look in the mirror and let me know if there’s anything you want fixed.”

He turned to the mirror painfully slowly, and his eyes widened when he saw his face. He twisted his neck sideways, so that his cheek was fully visible, and ran his fingers over his beauty marks.

“You didn’t cover these up.” He said.

“No.” she replied. “You asked me to do my thing. This is my thing. Polishing, not fixing. Lustering, not rebuilding. No one’s face is broken. No one needs fixing.”

He blinked several times, turning his head to look at her.

“Do you want me to cover them up, Mr. Ren?” she asked. He declined the offer with his head, still looking like an exceptionally big lost boy in a big, big mall.

“Good” she replied, spritzing setting spray on his face more forcefully than she had to and walking away with her case. She heard him cough as she closed the door behind her, but she didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We stan a setting spray wielding queen and a soft boy pretending to be an asshole. What can I say? Leave any thoughts or suggestions down in the comments, please! It would make my day!


	3. Late Night with Poe Dameron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey's in for a surprise. Hope you enjoy this one!

 

 

If Rey didn’t care so much about keeping Poe’s makeup intact and making sure the concealing work she had done under his eyes wasn’t caking up or creasing, she wouldn’t have set foot in the studio where _Late Night with Poe Dameron_ was shot.

Not that night.

Not when _that_ guest was the one sitting on the couch.

She kept replaying Ren’s words in her head, and they made her angrier every time she did. How dare he doubt her passion for makeup? Her devotion to her craft? And based on what? On the fact that she didn’t have a full face on? A tiny part of her brain kept arguing that he had honestly just made a remark.

She said to hell with that part of her brain.

No, he'd meant to diminish her. It was so, so undeniably him.

She rearranged the brushes around her waist for the tenth time that night, knowing perfectly well they were already immaculately placed for the type of work she would have to do during the show. She just had to keep her hands busy somehow. As she downed her third cup of coffee in the MUA’s lounge, however, she finally decided she didn’t want to miss Poe’s monologue, even if it meant stepping into the danger zone.

She dragged herself through the corridors as slowly as her feet would take her, growing impatient when a junior producer walked by her guiding a large group of people through a side door. Poe’s show was the only one that included a live audience, and she usually loved it. It made the energy completely different, and really showcased how exceptional the host was at entertaining a crowd.

Today was different, though, because she couldn’t shake the feeling that some unsuspecting Ren-fans were about to walk into their wildest daydream. She was sure they’d be shouting, whistling and swooning from their seats as soon as his name was announced, and the thought made her sick to her stomach. How anyone could be attracted to that man was beyond her.

Of course his lips were full and his voice was so deep it had made her bones vibrate a little when he spoke.

His hair was also obscenely shiny, and it actually smelled delicious, as she had found out when she’d leaned in to check if the faint contour she had applied to his cheeks had been properly blended.

Oh, and his eyes turned out to be a beautiful light brown, verging on hazel, not the deep dark brown she had initially envisioned.

And she guessed his body was alright. She'd tried hard not to look at his bare arms, because that seemed to make her throat itch in a very odd way.

All in all, there was nothing truly attractive about him though, she thought as she entered the backstage area. She really couldn’t see the appeal.

For some reason, the mere thought of his screaming fangirls actually angered her even more after their encounter that evening. How could they be so blind?

Expertly dodging crew members that ran around shouting orders, she spotted Rose and Paige leaning against a wall, strategically positioned near some monitors where they could watch the show. They waved at her and she tried to smile, walking towards them.

“Sooooo, did you survive your encounter with Grumpy?” Rose teased, a twinkle in her eye.

Paige looked less prone to teasing as she eyed Rey, a worried look on her face. “You don’t look good, Rey”, she said in a low voice, rubbing her friend’s arm.

Rey sighed. “I survived. He’s a jerk. Glad I’ll never have to touch his face again. End of story.”

Rose gave her a loving side hug, and they silently agreed to change subjects.

“So”, Rey said, “did anyone else notice how tired Poe looked today? I had to actually go Studio Finish under his eyes”

Paige let out a whistling noise, raising her brows. “Wow. He’s usually a Healthy-Mix-Serum-and-powder type of job, isn’t he?

Rey nodded solemnly. “Yeah, he’s my easiest gig.” she confirmed. “So strange”

Rose cracked her knuckles, looking puzzled. “Well,” she pondered “he has been working a lot. And interviewing Ren has to be nerve-wracking. I mean, he _is_ iconic. For better or for worse.”

Rey shrugged, refusing to give Ren any compliments, even if they were backhanded ones.

Suddenly, the running around backstage grew dead silent, and they knew the show was about to start.

 

 

 

___________________

 

 

“I mean, are you kidding me? A ‘big step forward in public health’? President Hutt is trying to convince us that this joke of a bill is a ‘big step forward in public health’? Does he have any idea what the word ‘big’ means? Here, Mr. President, we’ll help you out. This is what ‘big’ looks like”

Poe looked to the right, and a picture of Moden Canady’s forehead on the day he was being interviewed by Kylo Ren popped up by his side on the monitor. The vein on the Senator’s temple looked like a small snake, and his face was bright purple. The crowd roared with laughter, and Rey could hear the applause backstage.

“This, mr. President” Poe said, visibly holding back a chuckle. “We want a step forward the size of that vein. Minus the money laundering scheme, if you don't mind”.

The crowd cheered again, and Poe shot a dazzling smile at the camera. It was so good Rey was pretty sure no one that didn’t know him personally would notice the nervous twitch on the corner of his mouth.

“And speaking of Moden Canady, we have a secret guest here tonight….”

Rey felt Rose and Paige stiffen, and her breath hitched. That was it.

The crowd booed at the mention of the name.

Poe waved his hands.

“No Canady fans here tonight? That’s alright, because he’s not our guest. Pretty much the opposite, really. Please, give it up for our guest Kylooooo Ren!”

The host smiled again and pointed to a side entrance. The crowd went wild as Ren stepped onstage, waving as if he’d rather be getting a root canal.

Poe stood up to shake his hand, and Ren towered over him. They held the handshake a few seconds longer than strictly necessary, and Rey would bet half her foundation collection they were also using more force than they had to.

When Ren had finally sat down, fixing his jacket, and the crowd had gone relatively silent, Poe finally spoke. “Hell, Kylo, you really are that tall. No wonder you can squeeze people like lemons.”

Some girls squealed in the audience. Rey rolled her eyes so hard they must have gone completely white for a second. There, she knew it. His minions.

Ren didn’t even smile. This was going to be one hell of an uncomfortable ride.

“I like to think I’m just good at what I do”, he responded, tinkering with his watch while he looked at Poe.

The host smiled his best fake smile. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve all seen it. Your last interview just hit 500 million views on YouTube, by the way. Congratulations!”

The crowd cheered. Ren looked at them.

“Thanks.” He answered bluntly.

Rey wanted to punch him. He was giving Poe a hard time on purpose, she just knew it. He was an interviewer himself, so he knew how frustrating it was when people gave ridiculously short answers.

He was trying to make a point.

He had to prove he was more talented than Coruscant’s sweetheart, Poe Dameron. Maybe he was hoping he’d finally get a job offer somewhere after this? Pathetic.

Rey chewed on her thumb nail to placate the ice bucket that had replaced stomach.

Poe wasn’t giving up. “It was a special one, that’s for sure. And after that you left the First Order to pursue bigger and better things, of course. How’s that going?”

Rey laughed wholeheartedly, and so did the audience. Poe was a beast.

Kylo shifted on his seat and answered in an annoyingly calm tone. “It’s going great, actually. You should know that better than anyone, Dameron”

Poe was smiling, but his hands told a different story, splayed on the shiny surface before him, fingers going white. “Yes, of course. Why don’t you tell us about this new project of yours?”

Ren looked at the audience, then back at Poe. “Well….” He said, infuriatingly slowly. “It’s a remastered version of _Kylo Ren live_ , really. Bigger. Better. More dynamic. More interactive. The viewers will be able to ask their own questions and interact with us online. We’ll have new resources, new segments, a brand new set with brand new possibilities. A brand new show for a brand new phase in my career.”

He had to be bluffing, Rey thought to herself. There was no way in hell any of this was true. He hadn’t been hired by any major network, he couldn’t have been. It would be all over the news by now. Poe was going to expose his lying ass, she just knew it, so she waited patiently for the host’s next move.

Poe looked at Ren, scratching his chin and narrowing his eyes. “Wow, Kylo. That’s a coincidence. As our viewers know, Gial Ackbar’s retiring next week and RBS is going to fill his slot with a show that sounds just like the one you’re describing.”

In her peripheral vision, Rey could see Rose and Paige exchanging shocked glances between them and looking at her, but she didn’t look back. The world was spinning faster than in should, and everything was moving in slow motion at the same time. She was dizzy. What the fuck was Poe talking about?

Of course she knew Ackbar was retiring – it had been a huge commotion. But there were no new shows in the making. They were airing reruns of _The Republic_ instead of his round tables during the afternoon slot. That was it.

Kylo nodded. Rey was going to be sick. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be what she thought it was.

“And I’m very happy to be joining the Rebel family.”

The public gasped.

Some people cheered.

Those girls squealed.

Poe smiled at the camera. He didn’t even look at Kylo as he said “And the Rebel family is very happy to announce its new show, Up close with Kylo Ren, Monday to Friday here on RBS, starting next week!”

The crowd fnally roared.

The world turned into a blur of indistinguishable colors, shapes and sounds around Rey. It wasn’t real. It was a bad dream. But why did Rose’s hand feel so real on her shoulder?

 

 

\---------------

 

“Rey, you’re scaring us, babe. Have some water, please. C’mon”. Page kept pushing a water bottle into Rey’s lifeless hands, but she wouldn’t take it. She just kept shaking her head, refusing anything her friends offered her.

She had stormed out of the studio as soon as she regained control of her legs.

The interview had kept on going, delving into the new show, but she hadn’t seen any of it. She had started running as soon as she reached the long corridor and her numb legs had taken her straight to the lounge, where she had collapsed on a chair.

Ren was bringing his own makeup artist. It was the only thing that made sense. His producer, his director, his writers. Leia wasn’t going to make her own employees put up with him on the daily. She would never. Rey’s hands were shaking when Rose and Paige came barging in, kneeling in front of her. She couldn’t remember a thing they’d said.

The show was over now, and her ears were finally working again, but her hands were still shaking.

“Rey, it’s 40 minutes of Kylo Ren a day. You’ve been through so, so much worse, babe. You’re a fighter. Don’t let him get to you.” Rose was squeezing her thigh so tight Rey was sure she’d leave a bruise.

“No, Rose.” She was finally able to speak. Her voice was raspy and her eyes stung. “This is my safe space. I’m happy here. Coming to work every day is….. it’s….. now it’s going to…. He’s going to….” Her voice cracked and she buried her face in her hands.

Paige patted her hair, trying to comfort her. Rey loved them, but she just wanted to be alone now. To be teleported to her bed, fall asleep and wake up from this nightmare.

The door creaked open, and two faces popped in.

“Rey?” Finn said softly. “Are you alright, peanut?”

“Of course she’s not alright, Finn. Look at her” Rose snapped, patting Rey’s thigh.

“Can we come in?” Poe asked tentatively. Both men looked genuinely concerned, but even in her distressed state Rey could see that they weren’t shocked.

“Did you know about it? You two? Did you know Leia had hired him?”

Finn and Poe looked incredibly interested in their own shoes all of a sudden.

“Listen, Rey” Poe said hesitantly “Leia wanted us to keep it under wraps until it was finally announced. She was afraid Snoke might try to sabotage it. It had to be a secret until there was officially no turning back, you see?”

She growled, sadness momentarily replaced by hurt and betrayal “And you couldn’t have told _me_?”

“We wanted to, Rey. Everyone wanted to give you a heads up. Poe, Holdo, Ackbar. Everyone. We knew how you felt about him. We’ve been listening to your rants for three years now. We knew how you’d feel about being trapped in a room with him for 40 minutes every day. But we couldn’t go behind Leia’s back.”

Rey sniffed. She knew they were right, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Why are you fussing over me, anyway? I’m just the MUA. Have you thought about the directors? Writers? Producers? They’ll be trapped in rooms with him for hours!” Her voice came out extremely high pitched.

“Girl, what do you think took us so long? We were just comforting Connix. She puked in a trashcan.”

Rey whimpered, and Paige threw Poe the dirtiest look she could muster.

He came closer, raising his hands. “Sorry, Reyrey. That’s not what I meant. Everyone’s going to be OK, alright? I promise. He’ll do better here. First Order messes people’s head up.”

Finn nodded his agreement. “It’s true” he said “It looks like a fucking nazi hospital or something. People are horrible. It has to rub off on you if you work there every day. Maybe he’ll be better here.”

Rose and Paige nodded, urging him on. “Remember what you said after Canady? That maybe there was still light in him?” he said.

“I didn’t mean that!” she retorted, rubbing her nose. “Do you really think he can change, Finn? After everything he did? After Lor San Tekka? Ahsoka Tano? Lando Calrissian? Hera Syndulla? After you, Finn?”

The room went silent, and Finn shifted uncomfortably. “Rey, peanut, I have to….”

He was interrupted by the door creaking again, as a blur of lilac hair hesitantly stepped into the room.

“Rey?” Amilyn Holdo called gently.

Rey squared her shoulders and wiped her cheeks.

“Do you have a minute? Leia wants to talk to you.”

 

 

_____________________

 

 

The elevator ride to Leia’s office took years. Rey kept pressing the buttons to make it go faster, but people kept coming in and out and she wasn’t sure her stomach could take it any longer. She wanted it to be over fast.

She was going to be fired.

Kylo Ren hadn’t even officially started, and he had already won. He had told Leia how Rey had acted during their appointment. She was going to lose everything. Her job. Her friends. No, her family.

Her family.

Again.

A sob threatened to rip through her chest, but she swallowed it down. She wasn’t going to cry. Not anymore.

The elevator finally stopped, and she marched to Leia’s door with her head held high. She was going down in honor. She knocked. “Come in”, a tired voice responded, and she did.

Leia was sitting on her desk, looking at several piles of papers, her glasses low on the bridge of her nose. She looked much older than she had the previous week, when Rey had dropped by to give her some doughnuts the crew had pitched in to buy when Ackbar had announced his retirement. She knew Leia loved raspberry jam, so she had saved her some. The memory made her want want to cry.

Leia looked up and smiled, taking off her glasses and standing up. “Rey, honey”, she opened her arms and Rey couldn’t hold herself back as she walked into the hug. “You look sad, dear”.

It took everything in her not to sob into Leia’s shoulder. “Leia” she was able to choke out “I’m so sorry”.

Leia grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her a few inches away, so she could look at her face. “What on Earth are you sorry for, Rey?”

Her eyes burned. “How I acted…. I….. I know it wasn’t professional, but….”

Leia interrupted her, her grip tightening “Rey, you don’t have to apologize. You stormed out in the last 15 minutes. There were no more touch-ups to be done. You could have gone home, for all I care.”

Rey blinked. Leia couldn’t possibly think this is what she was referring to.

“C’mon, child, sit down, we need to talk.”

Rey collapsed on the worn out leather chair. Her head was spinning. What was going on?

“Rey, I want to know if Kylo was rude to you today. Did he raise his voice? Did he offend you in any way?”

So she _didn’t_ know. Rey didn’t know what to say.

“He…” she replayed the scene in her head. Nothing he had said seemed to be worth reporting. It angered her even more. “Not really. I mean, he was unpleasant, annoying. But…”

“Nothing major?” Leia asked. Rey confirmed with a nod.

The president relaxed in her chair, looking relieved. “Good. Very good. I know you don’t like him very much, sweetheart. God knows everybody in this network knows how you feel about him.” She chuckled before going on. “And I’m very, very sorry I didn’t tell you what was going on. At the end of the day, you’re the only crew member who’s interacting with him like that. One on one, alone, 40 minutes a day. But I want you to know I have your back. If he does anything – and I mean anything – that makes you uncomfortable, you report it to me. He’ll be held accountable. He’s been warned.”

Rey forgot how to breathe. She felt so grateful she couldn’t put it into words. The whole thing still felt like a nightmare, but Leia was on her side. She had her back. It meant more than she could ever let her know, so she just smiled e teary smile.

“There we go, that’s better. We need that smile.” Leia patted her hand. “Now, off to the topic I really wanted to discuss. You know Jyn Erso, yes? The comedian?”

Rey struggled to follow, but nodded. What did Jyn Erso have to do with any of this?

“And you’ve heard she’s getting married to Cassian two weeks from now?”

Rey nodded again. Of course she’d heard about it, it was all over the Internet. Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor, a match made in comedy heaven. They’d co-written and co-starred Rogue Network’s most popular show, The Star Killers, a hilarious weekly sketch extravaganza. When the networked collapsed – Snoke’s doing, according to web forums and gossip magazines – the couple started a YouTube channel. The move had raised eyebrows at first, but turned out to be a master stroke. A few years later, they had 12 million subscribers, and their sketches got hundreds of millions of views. They became YouTube royalty, and a mediatic power couple. Now they were getting married.

“So you’ll also know that Jyn is a bit quirky, God bless her. Poor girl had the trial run for her makeup done only yesterday, and ended up hating it. Said some big shot artist didn’t listen to a thing she said and ended up doing a cut crease when she asked for a soft neutral halo look, whatever that means.”

Rey’s stomach did a back flip. She knew where this was going.

“She called me crying yesterday, asking if I knew any trustworthy MUAs who could do a test run asap. Of course all I could think about were your dewy, ethereal looks. Are you interested?”

Rey’s heart was pounding. Doing the bridal makeup for the most anticipated wedding of the decade would give her a platform she could have only dreamed of only yesterday.

“Yes, yes, of course!” she blurted out. “Yes, I’ll do it! I’ll meet up with her.”

Leia smiled, and all of a sudden she looked ten years younger. “Good. Very good. I’ll give her your number, then, if you don’t mind.”

“Absolutely!” Rey said, biting her lower lip and trying to stop smiling.

“That’ll be it, then. Go home, Rey. Rest. You need it.”

Rey gave Leia another hug and was walking towards the door when her boss called.

“Rey?”

She turned around and smiled.

“Yes?”

Leia was sitting down, her glasses back on. “I love what you did with his makeup. It looked perfect. Nothing like that horrible mask the First Order people made him wear.”

“Thank you”, Rey said, tucking a stubborn lock of hair behind her ear. “He’s an asshole, but his skin is beautiful. It was a crime covering it up like that.”

Several feelings crossed Leia’s eyes. Sorrow. Pride. Regret. Her face eventually settled into a sad smile that Rey couldn’t decipher.

“I know. I know. Thank you, Rey.”

 

 

_____________________

 

 

The lounge was empty by the time Rey went back to get her backpack, but it didn’t surprise her. She had told everyone to go home when she'd left to talk to Leia, after all. She didn’t want anyone to see her cry in case the worst happened, and she definitely didn’t want to say her goodbyes like that. Now, however, she did wish Rose and Paige were around to hear the good news.

She still couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that she’d be the one doing Jyn Erso’s wedding makeup. That is, if the star ended up liking her work, of course.

She was deep in thought while she waited for the elevator, trying to mentally conjure up color schemes that would bring out Jyn’s gorgeous green eyes, when she felt a presence pull up next to her.

It was a tall presence.

His fresh wooden scent gave him away before she could turn her head to confirm her worst fears. She just kept looking straight ahead, as if the metal doors before her were the most beautiful art piece she’d ever seen.

“So” his deep voice rumbled beside her. “Looks like we’ll be working together.”

“So I’ve been told.” She replied coldly, not moving an inch but unconsciously lifting her chin.

“Maybe I’ll eventually get used to you applying household supplies to my face, then”, he said.

She clenched her fists, and the doors opened as if her gesture had commanded them to. She walked in, and he walked in behind her. His scent grew even stronger in the confined space of the elevator, and she held her breath as the doors closed.

This was just her luck. Trapped in an elevator with satan himself.

Desperate to get to her floor as quickly as humanly possible, she reached for the button, but he seemed as anxious as she was to get rid of her company, because he extended his hand at the exact same time.

Their fingers touched for a split second, and there it was again. Electricity, pure and raw.

She was the one who recoiled this time, a distressed look on her face. When she finally looked at him, his expression was unreadable.

“And maybe I’ll get used to you being an arrogant prick” she blurted out, hammering on the button she had originally intended to push like a functional human being. He did the same to the button that led to the parking garage.

“Do you make a habit of offending your coworkers?” he asked, exasperated.

Oh, that was just precious.

She narrowed her eyes. “Well, just the narcissistic assholes, sooooo, let me think” She looked up dramatically, theatrically scratching her chin. “No, that’d be just you”, she finally said.

A high pitched noise filled the elevator, and the doors slid open. She could see the front lobby. Thank God.

“Good night, Mr. Ren” she spat as she walked away from him, stomping her feet like a child.

She didn’t look back to see if she’d gotten an answer. If she had, the last thing she would have seen as the doors closed would have been his blank expression, followed by his right hand clenching into a fist and then unclenching rapidly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Rey listens to I Did Something Bad on repeat all the way home. Let me know what you think! <3


	4. Stargazing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey learns more about Ben from various sources. Hope your enjoy!

 

 

 

When she woke up the following day, Rey’s head was throbbing. She turned off her alarm and, against her better judgement, lay back down, facing the ceiling.

The white paint was peeling off and cracking in several different spots, and she tried to connect those spots mentally, forming constellations. It had been her very own version of stargazing since she was a child.

She’d been raised in the foster care system, jumping from one horrible household to the next, having to fend for herself from a very young age. So she’d only ever allow herself to do childish things like stargazing in the privacy of her own room. In the outside world, where the real stars shone, she had to be an adult.

Always an adult.

Maybe that’s why her interaction with Kylo in the elevator wouldn’t stop replaying in her head.

Maybe that’s why she’d been unable to drown it out. Why she hadn’t slept a wink.

Because she had acted like a child.

She had been in her workplace, in the presence of a coworker, and she hadn’t been able to control herself. She had called him a “narcissistic asshole”, as her brain made a point to keep reminding her, the words bouncing around nonstop in her skull.

He enraged her. His presence, his smell, his eyes, his mouth, his voice. Everything about him made her blood boil and her heart race. He made her lose any sense of dignity. But the worst part – and the one that had kept her up – was that he made her lose any sense of herself.

Because it was nothing like herself, losing her temper in her workplace like that. Risking her job like that. When she was called to Leia’s office, she was sure she was going to be fired because deep down she knew she’d acted unprofessionally, and still she had acted the way she did in that goddamn elevator. What was it about him that made her lose all trace of self-control?

Self-control, the very same thing that had gotten her through her miserable childhood and horrible teenage years.

Self-control, the very same thing that had allowed her to make a career out of the thing she loved the most.

She had to apologize to him, she decided, finally getting up. Not for Kylo, no. He really was an arrogant jerk, she told herself on her way to the bathroom. But for her family and for herself. She wasn’t going to lose track of who she was because of him. She'd be the bigger person.

She wouldn’t meet him until Monday, though, when his show was meant to debut, so she had five days of embarrassment and regret to deal with until she could finally put this thing to rest and go back to being the professional she knew she was.

It served her well, she thought, rinsing the cleanser off and patting her face dry on a clean towel. That’s what you get when you act like a child, as life had taught her time and time again. Embarrassment and regret.

 

 

__________________

 

 

She tried to keep him off her mind at work, but it turned out to be impossible. The elevator ride alone was a nightmare.

As she stepped into the confined space, she could swear she could still smell him. If she closed her eyes, she could hear his deep voice echoing on the walls. She could even hear her own voice, saying things it shouldn’t have.

Her heart was heavy as she made her way towards Finn’s dressing room, case in hand.

She couldn’t let him get to her like that. Since when did she let jerks get under her skin? She’d worked with her fair share of jerks, and she’d always managed to stay professional. This would be no different. It should be no different. She’d just been tired, shocked and caught off guard, that’s all. She could do it.

“Come in!” Finn said from behind the door when she knocked, and he was already on his feet when she walked into the room.

“Peanut” he said, pulling her in for a hug “You scared the shit out of me. You wouldn’t pick up the phone last night”

“Sorry”, she apologized, hugging him back and asking him to sit down. “It died on my way home. But everything’s okay. Leia just wanted to offer me a client.”

“A client?” He raised and eyebrow.

“ Yeah.” She answered. “Bridal”.

Finn flashed her a smile. “Oh, that’s awesome! Who is it?”

Rey smiled back, leaning against her case as she fished out her make-up wipes.

“Hmm, I don’t know..... Jyn Erso?” she said

“GET OUT OF HERE!!” he screamed, jumping to his feet and hugging her again. “Rey, that’s amazing!!”

“Yeah, yeah”, she said, making him sit down again. “It’s not official yet. She wants to do a test run, obviously. But I’m just so honored Leia thought of me.” She admitted, cleaning his skin in gentle motions.

“Why wouldn’t she?” he asked, closing his eyes. “You’re the best.”

“No, I’m not” she chuckled, throwing the wipe away and reaching for the Tatcha primer that looked so beautiful on his skin. “But I’m excited about it. She’s supposed to text me today.”

“She’s a sweetheart. I used to be on The Star Killers’ writing team. Until, you know. Rogue blew up.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, of course I know that. Big fan of yours, remember?” She teased, working the primer into his skin.

“Bad taste, that’s what I call it.” He said dramatically, making her laugh again.

He smiled. “I’ll smuggle you some booze during the party, then.”

Rey didn’t have to ask. Of course he was invited.

“You know I don’t drink during working hours.” She replied.

“Yeah, that’s why I offered” he said smugly, making her laugh harder and slap his arm.

She was still smiling when she started mixing two shades of Face and Body to get his perfect match. It was the same foundation she’d used on Kylo.

The smell of his hair came to her mind at the mere thought of her beauty sponge on his skin, and she pushed the image away immediately.

Positive thoughts only, she repeated in her head. Positive thoughts only.

“Rey?” Finn said tentatively, as if he could read her thoughts. “What about Kylo?”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she kept a straight face.

“What about him?” she asked, dampening the beauty blender with thermal water.

“You....” Finn seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “You were not happy about yesterday’s news. Everyone was really worried.”

Rey sighed, leaning against her case.

“I’m sorry Finn, I don’t know what got into me. I really don’t. I guess I was just really tired, that’s all. I blew the whole thing way out of proportion.”

Fin bit his lower lip. “So all of a sudden you don’t hate him anymore?”

She felt her blood heating up, but she drew a big breath.

Stay professional, she thought to herself. Stay professional.

“I don’t like him, Finn”, she admitted, dabbing foundation on his skin. “But that doesn’t matter, does it? If I was asked to work on Snoke himself, I’d have to suck it up and do it. It’s my job. I don’t get to pick only the clients I like.”

Finn looked serious. “He isn’t anything like Snoke, Rey. Trust me. That guy gives me the chills.”

“Are you sure, Finn?” She replied, working diligently with her sponge to make his skin look as natural as possible. “ Cause I think he's just as bad. I mean, after what he did to you?”

He closed his eyes, resting his head against the chair behind him.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about when Holdo called you yesterday, peanut. I…” his Adam’s apple bobbed “I need you to let go of that grudge you hold against him because of that day, ok? I don’t want your work life to be affected by _that_.”

When he opened his eyes, Rey was staring at him.

“Finn, I’ll be professional about doing his makeup, but that’s about it. I can’t pretend he didn’t do that to you. He made your life a living hell. I saw what it did to you.” Her voice cracked, and she breathed before going on. “People called you a traitor and a defector for _three years straight_.”

“Well” Finn said, swallowing hard “It could have been worse.”

“How on Earth could it have been worse than that, Finn?” she asked, starting to grow impatient.

“He could have outed me.” He said matter-of-factly.

You could hear a pin drop in the room until Rey spoke again.

“He knew?” she whispered.

To her surprise, Finn chuckled.

“Of course he knew, Rey. Once he has his mind set on investigating your life, he knows everything”.

“Then how…” she started, but he spared her the effort.

“He came to my dressing room before the interview. He wasn’t explicit about anything, but he said that he wouldn’t mention anything related to my love life. Said that if I didn’t want to talk about it either I had to make sure to keep focused and stick to the topics he brought up.”

Rey’s heart was racing, and she leaned against a chair for support. “So he....”

Finn nodded “He gave me the choice. To come out on my own terms, when I felt the time was right. That’s what I did three years later. What he exposed....” he sighed, rubbing his neck “Yes, it was humiliating because I couldn’t defend myself properly without telling the whole story. But it wasn’t the blow I was expecting.”

He sighed again, his eyes wandering off as he relived that day. “I actually felt relieved when he wrapped up the show. It could have been a lot worse, Rey. Trust me.”

Rey sat on a chair, looking at the floor. Well, that was going to make her week a hell of a lot harder.

 

 

_________________

 

 

After her conversation with Finn, the days seemed to have twice as many hours.

She couldn’t hold on to her main grudge to justify her behavior any longer, and it made her embarrassment turn into remorse.

Of course not outing someone on national television was nothing but basic human decency, she thought, but at least he had that. Maybe he wasn’t a monster, then - just an insufferable, arrogant man, which meant that all the name calling had been really, really uncalled for.

That realization made all of their interactions sound worse each time she replayed them in her head, which happened very often now.

The worst part was that thinking about him still infuriated her for some reason. The mere thought of his face and his voice was enough to make her bitter and impatient, and, as the week went on, she felt bitter and impatient more and more often.

She was actually feeling particularly bitter and impatient when Jyn Erso walked into Rebel studios on Friday afternoon, right after Ackbar’s final show.

Rey felt her eyes sting when the director said it was a wrap and the studio erupted into applause. She was going to miss him, she thought as Paige squeezed her hand and wiped a tear from her cheek. She was going to miss the familiarity of it all, the routine, Gial Ackbar’s kind, familiar face.

A face that was about to be replaced by hazel eyes and plush lips, jet black hair and a fresh wooden scent.

She was about to clench her fists when her phone buzzed in her back pocket.

 

_**Jyn Erso** : Heey grl, it’s me! Leia brought me to the VIP room, I’m ready when you are! _

 

Rey snapped out of her daydream with a gasp and rushed towards the room. The very same one where she’d done Kylo’s makeup for the first time.

Kylo.

“Think positive thoughts, Rey. Positive thoughts” she mumbled to herself as she dashed through the corridors.

Jyn had been texting her during the week, sending her inspiration pictures and trying to schedule an appointment. Eventually, they had decided that meeting at RBS would be the only way to work around their hectic schedules, so Rey had brought her special case to work and kept it safely stored in the VIP room.

Having worked with so many of her idols, she thought she was past the point of being starstruck, but walking into the room and seeing Jyn Erso sitting down made her second guess that.

She was even more striking in person, melted chocolate locks falling over alabaster skin and green, green eyes.

“Hi!!” Jyn, said, getting up to shake her hand. “I’m Jyn!”

“And I’m Rey!” Rey replied, feeling stupid right away. "But you already know that" she added

“I’ve heard so much about you! I have a good feeling about this.” Jyn smiled, sitting back down.

“Me too” Rey answered sincerely, retrieving her case from under the snack table.

“I’ve been stalking your Instagram nonstop”, Jyn admitted, putting her phone on airplane mode. “Leia wasn’t exaggerating. You watercolor series is so, soooo beautiful!”

Rey blushed. “Thank you, it means a lot to me. Did you see any of my fantasy stuff? I was thinking about using some techniques I used on my fairies on your makeup, if you’re up to it. It would give you that glow from within we were talking about.”

“Oh my God!” Jyn smiled “I was _just_ about to say I wanted my skin to look just like the skin on your fairies!”

Rey grinned, and her smile lit up her entire face. This was definitely going to work.

While Rey prepped Jyn’s skin, her client told her about the wedding, the decoration, the cake, the flowers, the dress. Rey was exhausted just thinking about going through all that work. When she was getting started on the foundation, the subject switched to the groom.

“So, of course Cassian thought it was crazy to have seven bridesmaids, and I had to convince him it was perfectly normal. Showed him pictures of weddings with twenty bridesmaids. Twenty!”

Rey laughed, throwing her head back. “I don’t think I even have twenty friends” she said, still laughing, and Jyn smiled.

“I know, right? But he ended up agreeing. He had a hard time coming up with extra groomsmen, though. Originally, he wanted to keep it real simple. Just Baze, Chirrut and Be….. Kylo”

Rey’s heart skipped a beat.

“Kylo?” she choked out. “Kylo Ren?”

Jyn smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, they went to school together. They did drift apart for a while there with the whole First Order thing, so I wasn’t really sure if Cass would want him as a groomsman. But they have a bond, you know? That kind of thing can’t be easily broken.”

Rey’s mouth went drier than her skin, and that was saying something.

“So, Kylo will be at the wedding?”

Jyn laughed. “Of course he will! Wait….. are you the one who did his makeup? On Dameron?”

Rey nodded.

“Oh my God Rey, it looked so good! Even Cassian was shocked. We were so used to seeing him in that First Order mask bullshit.”

“Thanks” Rey choked out, opening up her Dose of Colors eyeshadow palette to keep her hands from shaking.

“We’re so glad he left that hellhole. Horrible people, all of them. He changed so much while he was there.”

“How so?” Rey’s mouth asked before she could think it through.

A shadow crossed Jyn’s eyes, and, when she spoke again, she sounded tired. “He got...... angrier, I guess. More aggressive. Prone to those infamous fits. I bet you've heard about them. Trashing dressing rooms, throwing stuff around. Not pretty.”

Then she smiled, and her face was bright again. “You should have seen him back in college, Rey. Such a shy boy. A disaster with the ladies. Always saying the wrong thing.” Jyn laughed, shaking her head. “We’re just so glad he’s here now. He debuts on Monday, right?”

Rey confirmed, trying to focus on the eyeshadow and not on her heart pounding.

“It’s gonna do him a world of good. Being around you guys, you know? In a healthy environment. Close to Leia.”

As Leia’s name came out of her mouth, Jyn’s eyes went wide, and she looked at Rey like a deer caught in the headlights.

“I mean, you know” she stammered “’Cause Leia’s so much better than Snoke. Obviously.”

Rey found it in herself to giggle. “Obviously” she replied, tapping her brush on the palette to remove excess product.

Jyn drew a deep breath that sounded a lot like relief.

 

 

_____________________________

 

 

It was the longest weekend of Rey’s life.

She was on cloud nine when she got home that Friday evening, thinking about how Jyn had reacted to her makeup look. She’d been reluctant to try a mauve color palette for her eyes, having her mind set on brownish nudes, but Rey had convinced her that any colors with warm, red-toned pigments in them would make her eyes stand out beautifully. Eventually, Jyn had accepted to give it a go, and Rey would never forget the look on her face when she looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes glistened with tears, and she brought her fingertips to her cheeks as if she needed to check if that was truly her face.

“Oh, Rey. It’s everything I wanted and more. So much more.” She’d flung her arms around Rey’s neck, and, as she felt her eyes begin to water too, Rey knew it was official. The job was hers.

She was still on a high when she rushed through the corridor to do Holdo’s makeup, and when she worked on Poe that very same evening, telling him everything that had happened that day.

She could still feel it even when she got home, exhausted, and collapsed into her pillows with her shoes still on.

On Saturday morning, though, she woke up thinking about Kylo again.

She tried to fight it, to keep her head busy, to stop replaying his voice in her head, but it was useless. Sitting on her bed, using latex to practice some experimental texturing techniques on her thighs, she couldn’t stop thinking about Monday.

By Sunday night, she had the entire monologue prepared in her head. She’d practiced it countless times in front of the mirror, toying around with intonation and face expressions, so, when Monday morning rolled in, she was pretty confident she could do it.

For some unexplainable reason, she woke up feeling like wearing a little makeup that morning. The bruising on her temples had all but disappeared, and her skin was looking clear and healthy, so she just dabbed a little concealer under her eyes, brightening up the area as naturally as she possibly could.

She also filled in her brows with feather strokes, mimicking natural hairs as closely as humanly possible, and applied a little bit of cream blush to her cheeks. Once she’d blended it out, working the product into her skin, it made her look like she’d been in the sun for a couple of minutes, and she smiled at her reflection, satisfied.

She felt like keeping her eyes fairly clean, so she just gave them a little bit of dimension, accentuating her crease with a powder that was barely a shade darker than her skin tone.

Finally, she finished up the look with a coat of mascara. Two coats, she thought, adding a little bit more. Yes, two coats sounded about right.

She applied a tinted balm to her lips absent mindedly while she picked out her outfit for the day. It was sunny outside, so she went for a green floral dress that looked particularly nice against her pale complexion. The print was delicate, with tiny white flowers stretching over emerald green cotton. Its v-shaped neckline showed just enough skin, and it wrapped around her waist in a way that maximized every curve on her body. She threw a denim jacket over it for good measure, thinking that it did get chilly in the studio sometimes, and went for white sneakers on her feet. Comfort was key, after all.

There was nothing weird about wanting to look put together to go to work, she thought as she walked down her apartment building’s creaky staircase. She would never admit to herself that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn mascara to go to work.

 

 

______________________

 

 

Standing in front of Ackbar’s dressing room door had never made her feel so anxious. Maybe it was the fact that the door didn’t say “Gial Ackbar” anymore, but “Kylo Ren” instead.

The golden letters shone at her, daring her to knock.

She did.

“Come in” his voice replied, and it sounded much richer and much deeper than she remembered.

When she walked in he wasn’t skimming through notes like he had the previous week. He was sitting on the edge of his seat instead, hands on the arms of the chair, staring at the door. She couldn’t help but notice his arms were bare again.

She swallowed hard.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Ren” she said as eloquently as she could, walking towards her work bench.

“Good afternoon” he said, sitting back on the chair nonchalantly as if he’d just realized he must have looked like we was about to jump forward.

The room was completely silent while she organized her material. She couldn’t see him, but she could feel his eyes burning holes on the back of her head.

It infuriated her.

“So, Mr. Ren” she started, still not turning around to look at him. “There’s something I wanted to say before I begin.”

He didn’t answer, so she turned around. He was looking at her, unwavering hazel eyes piercing into hers. It made her throat go dry.

She inhaled through her nose and exhaled through her mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

His expression didn’t move an inch. Her stomach churned.

“I’m sorry about how I acted on Tuesday. It was unprofessional, rude and unacceptable. I was under a lot of stress that day, and it made me react in a way that doesn’t represent my work ethic. I do apologize. And I hope our workplace relationship can be healthier moving forward.”

There, she’d made it through the monologue she had rehearsed. The problem was that, in her rehearsals, he would accept her apology and she’d move on with his makeup. He wouldn’t keep staring at her like an idiot, sitting in his chair in absolute silence.

The uncomfortable silence stretched painfully for what seemed like hours. Days. Maybe months.

Rey wanted to walk out of that room and never come back, but she held her ground.

When he finally spoke, his voice came out very slowly.

“Are you sorry you called me and asshole?”

“Yes, I am.” She nodded.

“A narcissistic asshole?”

“Yes.” She bit her tongue.

“And an arrogant prick?”

“Don’t push me, Mr. Ren.” She blurted out before she could contain herself.

Brilliant, Rey, she thought. Just brilliant.

She worked quickly to try and salvage the situation.

“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. Yes, I’m very sorry I called you and arrogant prick, Mr. Ren. It was uncalled for.”

He leaned back on his chair, looking intrigued.

“Okay. That’s fine. Let’s try to keep it civil.”

She felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders. See? He wasn’t that bad. He had forgiven her.

“I _will_ be trapped in a room with you for 40 minutes every day, after all” he added, reaching for a newspaper that sat on a tiny table next to his chair.

Bile rose in the throat, but she kept a straight face.

Keep it professional, Rey, she repeated like a mantra. Keep it professional.

“Ok. Thank you, Mr. Ren.”

He didn’t tear his eyes away from the newspaper as he answered.

“Call me Kylo.”

Her expression softened. See? An olive branch. He wasn’t that bad.

“Mr. Ren sounds ridiculous” he added, flipping through the pages.

She clenched her fists, swallowing down an insolent retort and starting to sanitize her hands.

“Right. Would you like me to do the same thing I did on Tuesday, or do you want me to change anything, Kylo?”

“No” he blurted out, finally looking at her. She could have sworn he’d looked embarrassed for a split second.

He cleared his throat, looking back down at the paper, and, when he spoke again, his voice was back to normal, slow, deep and detached.

“No, the same thing should be fine.”

She nodded, picking up a makeup wipe.

He was silent for the rest of the appointment.

Frustratingly silent.

He wouldn’t take his eyes off the newspaper while she was working on his face, and she had to talk him through everything she needed him to do.

Look up.

Look down.

Open your eyes.

Close them.

Tilt your head this way.

To the right now.

It made her grit her teeth. He couldn’t possibly not know when to look up and down, she thought, her blood boiling. He’d been doing this for years!

But the worst part was when she’d turn around to grab a new product.

When he thought she wasn’t looking, he’d look up and stare at her. His eyes were different when he did so, though. Not distant and blasé, but alive and curious. If she didn’t know better, she’d say they almost looked warm. She could see them reflected in the mirror, following her every move. Fixated on her hands while she mixed two concealer shades; on her forearm, when she swatched her concoction on it, double checking the shade. On her own eyes as she rubbed a wet spooly on the soap bar, focused on the density and the texture of the paste she was creating. When she’d turn back around, though, his eyes would be back on the newspaper, his face reverted to a mask of indifference.

She eventually grew used to the silence, so much so that she was rattled when he spoke again, a full thirty five minutes later.

“You’re wearing makeup today” he stated when she was reaching for the setting spray.

She wanted to roll her eyes. Not this crap again.

“Yes,” she answered politely this time around. “I am.”

He didn’t look away from the paper as he added “No foundation, though.”

God help her. What was it with this man and foundation?

“How do you know?” she said, trying to keep her voice as neutral as she could. “I might just be great at making it look invisible.”

He shook his head, eyes still down. “No. You have freckles.”

She blinked.

Her freckles were definitely there, and she loved them, but they weren’t that noticeable, especially from a distance. How the hell had he seen them?

“Well” she cleared her throat, the hand holding the setting spray hanging next to her hip. “I’m not wearing any foundation, no. But my freckles would be visible even if I were. I never cover them up. I like them.”

“Mmhm” he said in response, clenching his jaw. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

She shook her head. Happy thoughts, Rey, her brain sang. Happy thoughts.

“I’ll need you to look up for a second, Kylo. I need to set your face.”

He raised his eyes slowly, eyeing the setting spray suspiciously. She couldn’t control the wave of pride that washed over her.

“Close your eyes and your mouth, please. And don’t breathe. I’ll play fair this time.”

He did as he was told.

A lock of raven hair was falling on his forehead, so she held it back gently, making sure his whole face was visible as she sprayed. His hair turned out to be as soft as it looked. She didn’t want to think about it, so she looked down at the newspaper he was holding while she waited for the product to dry.

She couldn’t help but notice he’d been on the same page for 40 minutes.

“You can open your eyes now”, she said, letting go of the lock of hair and walking back to her station, closing her case.

“See?” she risked a smile. “Not that bad, was it?”

“No” he said. His voice came out hoarse. She smiled again.

“You’re all good to go, then. See you for touch-ups during the show.”

He didn’t answer, setting the newspaper on the table as soon as she’d walked out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quality flirting, Ben. Quality flirting. Jyn's wedding coming up in chapter 5! What could possibly go wrong, right?


	5. Something blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jyn's big day. Hope you enjoy!

 

 

 

A blur of different shades of green rolled before Rey’s eyes, and she made a point of enjoying every single moment of it. She rarely got to see any green. Coruscant was a big, bustling city, all steel and concrete. Some of the upscale neighborhoods were leafy, as she’d found out when she'd started doing freelance jobs for high-society clients, but she hardly ever got to go to those neighborhoods.    Her life went by mainly in shades of gray.

She rested her head against the car window, the coolness relaxing against the warmth of her skin. If she hadn’t landed this job, she probably would have died without knowing her city was surrounded by so much green.

She’d heard stories about Naboo, of course. The hideaway of the rich and famous, a 45-minute drive away from Coruscant. It was supposed to be a small paradise, studded with lush forests and picturesque waterfalls, but Rey had just found out the pictures didn’t make it justice at all.

The leather seat squeaked underneath her as she moved, positioning her case more comfortably between her feet. Jyn had sent a car to pick her up and take her to the wedding venue, a big, old manor they’d rented for the day in the heart of Naboo. Looking out the window, Rey had to agree the city was fitting for a wedding. She’d never dreamed of getting married, and still she caught herself thinking that, if it ever happened, she’d like it to take place somewhere as green as this.

She also caught herself thinking about Kylo. He had behaved surprisingly well the rest of the week, which in turn had left her feeling really optimistic. Maybe this could work out. Maybe he wouldn’t drain out all the pleasure of working for RBS after all.

Well, he’d behaved as well as she could have expected, she thought as the car sped through a huge, wildly colorful garden. He’d be infuriatingly quiet most of the time, spurting out random questions here and there.

On Tuesday, he’d asked her what her fan brush was for. On Wednesday, his lips had looked a little dry, so she’d asked him to apply a little lip scrub on himself, feeling uneasy about touching him after Grapeseed Oil Gate. He’d looked intrigued, pestering her about why it tasted like salted caramel for ten minutes straight. On Wednesday, she’d accidentally applied too much foundation over one of his beauty marks, causing it to look greyish. She’d drawn it back on using a dark brown pencil liner, and he hadn’t shut up until she’d let him look in the mirror to see why on Earth she’d used a liner on his cheek. On Friday, he’d asked her how waterproof mascara worked completely out of the blue.

He also kept avoiding eye contact, always having a book, paper or notes on his lap during their appointments. He still looked up and stared at her every time she turned around, though, and she was actually getting used to it. All in all, everything was going fine.

The only weird thing was that their schedules seemed to have randomly aligned somehow. When she got to work on Tuesday, he was sitting in the café in the lobby, sipping on an espresso and reading the newspaper. She didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t unheard of for a host to arrive early in order to prepare for his show, after all. The following days of the week, though, he had arrived at the same time she always did, and they’d been forced to share the elevator. He’d also leave the building around the time her shift was over, so they’d end up sharing the elevator in the evening as well.

It angered her, smelling his perfume on her all the way home. At least he’d be silent, though, so that was progress, she guessed.     

In fact, she wasn’t actually too worried about meeting him at the wedding anymore. Even if they did meet, he’d probably just stay quiet anyway.

Her reverie was broken when the car pulled up in front of a beautiful, massive house. Its dark brown stone walls exuded a sense of dignity that walls could only acquire by standing up for hundreds of years, and the window shutters were painted a rich dark green that perfectly matched the ivy crawling up the walls. Wildflowers grew freely around the stately building, forming the most stunning natural garden Rey had ever seen.

Her eyes were wide when the driver opened the door for her, taking her case and handing it back to her as she stepped out.  It felt like stepping into a dream.

When she approached the house, climbing the steps to a front porch that could probably fit her entire apartment, a small woman approached her with a smile.

“You’re Rey, right?” she asked, adjusting her earpiece.

“Yes,” Rey answered, her head still spinning.

The woman shook her hand and smiled.

“I’m Jessika, Jyn’s assistant. She’s waiting for you upstairs. Follow me, please.”

Rey did as she was told, only slowing down her pace when they entered a huge room that made her breath catch in her throat. The shiny wooden floors reflected hundreds of tiny lanterns that hung from the ceiling. When she looked up, Rey saw that the lights hung from a lush ivy canopy that covered the entire room. On the floor, several men moved around, meticulously arranging wooden tables and matching chairs. The ones that were already in place were adorned with colorful wildflower centerpieces carefully displayed in intricate glass vases.

Along the long back wall, huge windows looked out into the back garden, a vast lawn full of big, old trees. In the distance, Rey could see a wooden arch adorned with ivy and flowers being set up, as well as several rows of chairs being arranged for the ceremony. Everything looked breathtaking.

“Rey?” Jessika called gently, and Rey realized she’d been staring.

“Right, sorry,” she mumbled, picking up the pace and following Jessika to the next room.

On their way upstairs, Rey was greeted by several different workers in impeccable fitting outfits, and couldn’t help but feel a little underdressed. She was wearing the same thing she always did on these occasions: an old halter neck dress she’d had forever. It was a backless navy blue number that hugged her body comfortably, falling just above her knees. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek, low chignon, up and away from her face, and the nude sandals on her feet had delicate straps, but the heels were low and thick. Working weddings was always tricky when it came to attire: she had to look put together and appropriate for the occasion, but still feel comfortable enough to do her job properly. That’s why she always wore the same thing. 

Jessika guided her through a labyrinth of long corridors adorned with big mirrors, colorful rugs and expensive looking paintings, until she finally came to a halt, knocking on a heavy wooden door.

“Come in!” Rey heard Jyn’s voice say, and, with a smile, Jessika opened the door, gesturing for her to go inside.

If the front porch could fit her entire apartment, Rey was pretty sure this room could fit an entire filming location. A large bed stood by the wall, its solid wooden headboard adorned with ornate carvings. The sunshine invited itself into the room through massive windows that looked out into the back garden, tinting the shiny wooden floors and the antique furniture a comforting shade of orange. A red velvet loveseat sat in a corner by a large, heavy looking shelf, forming a cozy reading area. Everything was so beautiful that Rey almost missed Jyn sitting by a mahogany vanity, beaming at her.

“You’re here!” she exclaimed, getting up and walking towards Rey.

“Yeah, sorry I kept you waiting. Congratulations!” Rey said apologetically, giving the bride a hug.

“No, no, you’re just in time!” Jyn reassured her, walking back towards the vanity. “This should be alright, right? Is the lighting ok?”

“Yeah, yeah!” Rey answered, setting her case down and looking around. “Everything’s perfect.”

Jyn beamed again. Her hair was already done, twisted into a beautiful half updo, and she was dressed in a white fluffy robe. “I’ve already washed my face with the products you recommended! And I got a facial on Monday” she said, sitting down.

“Perfect”, Rey nodded, picking the case up and setting it back down closer to the vanity. “Your skin looks amazing. You’re making my job too easy.”

Jyn smiled, crossing her legs and playing with a lock of hair “Trust me, nothing about this entire process in easy. Is everything ok downstairs? Is the reception room coming out alright?”

Rey nodded enthusiastically, trying to find the words to describe it.

 “Yes, it’s perfect. Like, fairytale perfect. This place is unbelievable, Jyn”

Jyn breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good, I trust your taste. Cassian wouldn’t let me look, said I’d want to change everything last minute. Never marry a guy who knows you too well.”  

Rey laughed, opening her case and taking out her skin prep kit. “Not happening anytime soon”, she said, starting to organize her products on the vanity.

While Rey moisturized her skin, Jyn’s eyes were fixated on the window. From where they stood, they could see the ceremony area being set up. Rey thought it had to be nerve wrecking.

“It _is_ beautiful, isn’t it” Jyn said, absent mindedly picking at her robe.

“Amazing,” Rey said, patting her skin gently. 

“God knows it’s the YouTube money. If we’d decided to get married right after Rogue, we’d have to do it in a trashcan.”

Rey smiled, reaching for a Fresh eye serum and applying it gently. “That bad?”

Jyn laughed “You have no idea. We thought we were never coming back from that.”

Rey applied a dab of liquid highlighter to the very top of Jyn’s cheekbones, which would make her look radiant once a sheer layer of foundation had been applied over it. While she did it, Jyn began to tell her the story of Rogue Network.

The rumors turned out to be true. Enraged by The Star Killers’ acid humor and by their caustic impressions of him, Snoke had made it his life’s mission to take down not only the show, but the entire network. One by one, he’d alienated their sponsors, until they had absolutely no way to keep afloat.

They’d fought for it, Jyn told her, still looking out the window. The couple risked their own livelihood, investing every single penny and going into severe debt in their effort to save Rogue. It hadn’t been enough, and they’d eventually been forced to step down and watch their entire life’s work crumble. 

“And it didn’t bother you that Kylo was working for Snoke that entire time?” Rey asked, unable to contain herself. Jyn’s sheer strength moved her, and hearing the whole story made her chest feel impossibly tight.

Jyn finally looked at her, but her eyes were distant. “It’s complicated” she said, shifting in her seat. “He did try to help. Invested some serious money. Even went behind Snoke’s back to try and talk some sponsors out of jumping ship”.

She sighed, looking at the ceiling. “It was enough for Cassian. I guess it was enough for me, too. Snoke’s powerful, Rey. More powerful than you can imagine. He has dirt on _everyone_. Serious dirt. The way he just made our sponsors run and hide like scared little kids….”

She sighed heavily, unexpectedly clapping her hands. “But c’mon, I don’t wanna talk about that old bag of raisins on my wedding day. How about you? Are you dating? I can set you up with someone today.” Then she suddenly jumped on her seat, smiling. “Oh, I know! Bodhi! You’d love Bodhi!”

Rey laughed, shaking her head while she buffed in the foundation. “Thanks, I’m good. And I’ll just stay here through the party, if you don’t mind. On call to do your touch-ups.”

Jyn’s mouth opened in outrage. “No way! I’m not letting you stay here!”

“It’s how I always do weddings! I’m working, remember? It makes me feel more comfortable. Really. And more focused on keeping you picture perfect,” she smiled.

Jyn still seemed unsure. “I don’t like it. You’re not a prisoner.”

Rey laughed “I know, I know. It’s just my thing, ok? I promise. I’d feel super uncomfortable going down there. And I really want to be here for you anytime you need me.”

Jyn raised an eyebrow “I’ll get them to bring you food, then. Lots of it.”

Rey smiled. “Yeah, that I can live with.”

They talked and laughed for a solid hour, and, by the time she was getting started on eye makeup, Rey knew enough backstage anecdotes to write a book. She was still laughing about the story of Cassian preparing to impersonate Congressman Orson Krennic when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Jyn said, wiping tears from her eyes as the door creaked open.

Rey knew who it was before she looked. There was something about his mere presence she was able to detect somehow. Maybe it was all the practice she got staring blankly ahead in those silent elevator rides.

“Jyn, Cass wants to…” Kylo’s deep voice began to say, but then he stopped. Rey didn’t look up from her blending work, but she could feel his eyes burning into her skin.

“What is she doing here?” he asked.

“Smooooth, dude” Jyn said dramatically, looking at the door.

“Hi to you too, Kylo” Rey said, finally looking at him and raising her blending brush in the air. “Doing her makeup. It’s kinda my job, you know.”

Kylo’s eyes were fixated on her, but he directed his question at Jyn. “I thought Bazine was doing your makeup.”

“Bazine sucks. Rey rocks, Changed last minute. No mystery to be solved here, big boy.” She turned to face him, a playful smile on her lips. “What did you want again?”

Kylo cleared his throat. “Cass wants to know if you have an ETA. The guests are here.”

“All of them?” Jyn asked anxiously.

“Pretty much, yeah”

“I’m almost done. I’ll do lashes, touch up your lips and you’re good to go” Rey said, leaning against the vanity and cracking her knuckles.

Jyn nodded, turning back to Kylo “Tell them half an hour, then”.

He nodded curtly, never taking his eyes off Rey as he closed the door.

“Is he always like that?” Rey asked, getting back to blending.

“Only when he’s breathing” Jyn answered, smiling fondly.

Twenty minutes later, Jyn was looking into the mirror, her eyes glistening again.

“Shit, Rey, stop making me cry!” she whined, patting her eyes dry. “I’m going to ruin my makeup before the damn ceremony!”

Rey grinned. “You look beautiful. Need help getting into your dress?”

“Yeah!” Jyn said, rushing towards a big garment bag hanging from the wall.

“I’ll just wash my hands, then! Make sure I don’t stain it.”

“Sure,” Jyn nodded, pointing to the door. “ Bathroom. Out the door, to the left. First corridor to the right, it’s the very last door. Right next to the balcony”.

Rey nodded, repeating the instructions mentally until she got to the bathroom. This house really was a labyrinth. 

 As soon as she was done buttoning the bridal gown, she fixed Jyn’s hair, turning her around and getting a good look at the whole picture. She looked perfect, the simple, figure-hugging silk dress matching her personality perfectly.

“So?” Jyn asked anxiously.

“Most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen” Rey answered. It was the truth.

Jyn grinned, pulling her in for a hug. “You’re an angel, Rey,” she said, and a familiar warmth spread through Rey’s chest.

Then Jyn stepped backwards, rubbing her engagement ring with her thumb. “Something old,” she said, moving it around on her finger. Her hands went to the dress “something new,” she caressed the silk on her hips. “Something borrowed” she continued, touching her pearl earrings, and then she stopped. “Shit,” she cursed “I forgot the ‘something blue’ part.”

Rey chuckled, reaching for her case. “Wait a second,” she said, fishing out a bullet shaped object and pulling a pencil brush from her kit. She pulled the lid with a pop, twisting the lipstick to reveal a bright shade of blue.

“I never get to use Blue Bang. Such a fun lipstick.” she said, applying it on the brush. “Here, give me your hand.”

Jyn extended her arm, and Rey caught her hand delicately, drawing a blue heart on its back, right between her thumb and her forefinger. “There you go. Something blue” Rey stated, closing the lipstick just as someone knocked on the door.

This time, Kylo didn’t look at Rey.

“It’s been forty minutes” he mumbled, walking in and looking at Jyn anxiously.

When he saw her, he stopped dead in his tracks. His lips slowly morphed into a smile, and Rey felt like she was seeing it happen in slow motion.

“You look incredible” he said, coming closer.

Rey had never seen him smile before. It lit up his entire face. Made him look younger. Made his eyes look brighter and softer. Kinder, even.

Something stirred in her lower abdomen.

“Good, did you put Kylo Ren to bed for the day?” Jyn said, smiling back.

“Shut up” he replied, still smiling. “Let’s go.”

He extended an arm, and Jyn took it. His smile faltered when he looked at her hand.

“You’ve got something there” he said, pointing at it.

Jyn slapped his arm jokingly. “It’s my something blue, asshole. Look! Rey drew it on with lipstick.”

When he looked at Rey, he wasn’t smiling. “Who makes blue lipstick?” He asked, frowning.

“Someone who’s not a huge mood killer!” Jyn answered before Rey could open her mouth, pulling him towards the door. “Let’s go!”

He didn’t move.

“Aren’t you coming?” he asked Rey.

“No,” she said, closing her case. “I’m staying put to do Jyn’s touch-ups”

Kylo frowned again.

“I insisted, man. She really doesn’t want to. We’ll come visit. Let’s go!”

When they walked out the door, his smile was still engraved on her brain.      

 

______________

After the test run, Jyn had taken a picture with Rey and tagged her on her Instagram. Since then, she’d struggled keeping up with the comments, the DMs and the steady influx of new followers, so, as the party music blasted downstairs, she just scrolled through her pictures, sending heart emojis and answering questions.

It kept her busy for a long time. Jyn showed up for a touch-up around 3 o’clock, ranting about how Cassian wouldn’t stop pulling her into dark corners and starting make out sessions like a teenager. She didn’t seem too bothered, though, and, as Rey reapplied foundation around her lips, she thought Jyn actually seemed to have participated very enthusiastically.

Poe and Finn also showed up about an hour later, looking and sounding tipsy and determined to drag her downstairs. She resisted bravely, smiling to herself when they finally gave up and left the room together. There was an ongoing bet on how long it would take for them to finally do something about their mutual crush, and Rey had a feeling this might finally be the day she’d win.  

Waiters also came up regularly to bring her food – tons of it. Jyn must have been very specific about Rey being fed as if she were president Hutt himself, because she couldn’t make it through half the delicious canapés and finger food laid before her in shiny platters.

They’d also bring her any drinks she’d ask for, and she was halfway through her fourth virgin margarita when her bladder started to feel uncomfortably full. She resisted bravely for half an hour, thinking that Jyn might show up for a second touch-up any time soon, but, when the waiter showed up with another drink, she decided she really needed to go.

She walked fast towards the bathroom she had used earlier, determined to make it quick in case Jyn showed up. Even the bathroom looked like it was worth ten times more than her entire makeup collection, she thought as she pulled her dress up and sat down, looking at the mahogany cabinets, the marble floor and the detailing on the bathtub that looked suspiciously like gold.

She had just flushed and was washing her hands when she heard voices approaching on the long corridor. One of them resonated weirdly with her bones, and she knew who it was before she could even hear him properly. 

“But then one of the writers came up with a really clever solution. It was actually pretty cool” Kylo’s voice said, drawing closer and closer.

Good, Rey thought. Now he’d know she’d been peeing.

It felt stupid and immature, but she decided she’d wait for him to go away before coming out of the bathroom. She didn’t want to say hi anyway.

“Don’t act so surprised, dude. You know the rebels are top-notch,” someone answered. Rey would recognize Cassian Andor’s voice anywhere.     

When Kylo’s voice replied, the wind carried it straight through the bathroom window, and Rey could hear it as if he were right next to her. They must be on the balcony, she thought, putting the toilet lid down and sitting on it, elbows on her knees.

“Yeah, they know what they’re doing, I’ll give them that. Show’s been running smooth, man. That Connix girl, the producer?” Kylo asked, and Cassian’s voice hummed in acknowledgement. “She’s solid.”

Rey curled up into a ball, smiling and hugging her knees. Listening to him complimenting her friends made her heart swell and race.

“Yeah, Ackbar mentioned her a couple times. Said she saved his neck on the daily” Cassian said fondly. “And you’ve been looking a lot better too. Makeup-wise, I mean.”

Rey held her breath. The telltale sound of ice rocks crashing against a glass of whiskey filled the air for a few seconds before Kylo spoke again.

“It’s alright, I guess.”

Cassian laughed. “It’s more than alright, man. It looks amazing. Jyn was telling me this Rey girl is insane.”

Kylo only mumbled in response.

“She also told me you started acting like a total twit the moment you saw her. Anything going on there?”

Kylo must have answered nonverbally, because she didn’t hear him say anything before Cassian spoke again.

“C’mon man, I know you. You interested?”

“What the fuck dude,” Kylo replied, his voice hoarse.

“Jyn thought you were. Said you looked like a fucking loris staring at her.”

“Well, then Jyn’s tripping. Not my type. At all.”

Rey felt something burst inside her stomach and hugged her knees tighter. He didn’t find her attractive. That was normal, right? She didn’t care.  Of course she knew she wasn’t his type, and she didn’t even want to be. He probably only dated über models or something.

But it was also perfectly normal to feel like crying when someone said you were not attractive, right? It was a natural reaction. There was nothing weird about the way she was feeling.

Right?

Cassian laughed “Stunning’s not your type?”

“Who said she’s stunning?”

“Jyn”

“Would Jyn ever call someone ugly?”

“No. Is she ugly?”

Kylo’s voice sounded a bit too nonchalant when he said. “She’s OK, I guess. Still not my type.”

Cassian sighed. “Well, she’s obviously really talented. Jyn looked amazing.”

“Jyn always looks amazing.”

“Yeah, but you don’t, and she makes you look amazing too.”

Kylo laughed, and she heard rocks on a glass again. “Isn’t makeup kind of all the same?”

“You know it isn’t, man. Don’t you think you look different on _Up Close_ than you did on _Live_?”

“Yeah. Different isn’t always better, though.”

Cassian sounded exasperated. “Dude, don’t try and fucking Kylo _me_. She’s amazing, Her work is amazing. You know that.”

“She’s one of Leia’s protégés. Just like Dameron. They’re all overrated. Worshipped for passable work.”

“Ben, you know you’re….”

Rey didn’t hear that last sentence, nor did Cassian ever finish it. She pushed the door open with such violence that it travelled 180 degrees, slamming on the wall and bouncing back. The paintings on the wall rattled, and she heard a glass shatter to her left. She didn’t stop to check who it belonged to as she turned her back to the balcony and marched down the corridor, teeth clenched, nails digging into her palms and tears burning her eyes.

 

_____________________

 

Jyn came in for another touch-up around 7, and Rey thanked the universe she was too tipsy to notice her red-rimmed eyes and shaking hands.

She’d been pacing around the room for an hour, trying to contain the anger that boiled in her stomach. No, the hate.

Because she hated him.

She hated everything about him. How dare he? How dare he put her work down? How dare he imply she was somehow favored by Leia?

It made her want to throw up. The one thing she was proud of in her life was her resilience, her persistence, her ability to climb her way up from rock bottom and get where she was today. And some spoiled, self-centered, narcissistic asshole wasn’t going to take that away from her.

She was alone for a long time again after Jyn left, picking on her nails and biting her lower lip so hard she could taste blood. How dare he. How dare he. If that room didn’t look that expensive, she’d trash the entire thing. But that would make her just like him, and the mere idea of having anything in common with him made her want to punch a wall.

Minutes became hours, and anger gradually turned into sadness. Was she a fraud? Was her work only mediocre? Did people keep praising her because they felt sorry for her?

She buried her face in her hands, squirming on red velvet. It was easy, making grand inspirational speeches, preaching her strength and her courage to the outside world. In her own little world, though, the one that existed only inside her head, her confidence was a lot more bendable under the winds of mean words.

Her cheeks were tear-stained and the room had gone a shade of blue under the night sky when someone knocked on the door. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t possibly think that…..

The door knob turned painfully slowly.

“Rey?” Jessika’s soft voice called from the cracked door. 

 Rey hadn’t realized how hard her heart was pounding against her ribcage until she got up, wiping her cheeks and straightening her dress.

“Yeah?” she replied, struggling to keep her voice level.

Jessika walked in, smiling gently at her.

“Jyn kinda passed out on Cassan’s lap downstairs. You can go if you want to. The car’s ready whenever you need it.”

Rey nodded, breathing deeply. “Ok, thanks”

She risked a smile, but Jessika didn’t smile back. “Are you OK?” she asked instead.

“Yeah, totally” Rey rushed to answer “Just really tired. I fell asleep on the loveseat, probably look like a mess, right?” she shrugged.

Jessika smiled. “No, you look great. Just wanted to make sure. Come down when you’re ready, okay?”

Rey nodded, and then she was alone again.

She gathered her things and grabbed her case as fast as she could. She just needed to go home, get in bed and sleep this whole thing off. She’d rest on Sunday and feel brand new on Monday, and then she could figure out how to ask Rose or Paige to take over his makeup.

Because she couldn’t possibly be in a room with him ever again.  

She closed the heavy door behind her as she left the room, venturing into the empty corridors. Jessika must have been tired too, because she had forgotten how easily Rey could get lost up here. She tried to find her way, mentally retracing the path Jyn’s assistant had guided her through earlier on.

Right, left, right….. or was it left?

She walked for a few minutes before she finally saw a painting she recognized. It was a beautiful golden wheat field that had caught her eye on her way in, and she knew the staircase was right ahead, to her right. She was almost there.

She felt relief wash over her as she was rounding the corner, but it washed away when she bumped into solid muscle. She didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Sorry,” he stammered, putting a distance between them. He looked disheveled, and his eyes were hazy. She couldn’t care less.

Rage – blinding, red, boiling rage - froze her in place for a few seconds, and he took it as an opportunity to point at her case and ask “Do you need help with…”

“I need help with you getting THE FUCK out of my WAY,” she bellowed, shaking from head to toe.

He was smart enough to take two steps back, running a hand through his hair as she stormed past him.

“Listen,” he mumbled, reaching for her arm.

It pushed her over the edge.

“Don’t you fucking TOUCH ME”, she howled, pulling her arm away. They were side by side now, and she could stare right into his wide, shocked eyes.

“And _you_ listen” she said in a murderous whisper that sounded ten times more dangerous than her screaming. “You know who’s shielded? Overrated? Passable? _Mediocre_?  _You are_.”

She raised a finger, poking it into his chest, her voice going even lower. Their faces were inches away. She could feel his shaky breath on her face. “ _You.”_ She repeated, her breathing heavy. “With the fancy college mommy and daddy probably handed to you on a silver platter. _You_ , with that disgusting, evil little master you owe your pathetic career to. _You,_ pretending that bullying people into spilling secrets is talent. It’s not talent. It’s _sickening_.”

She took a step back, clenching her shaking hand back into a fist as it fell to her side.

“ _I_ almost starved through college. _I_ am still drowning in student debt. _I_ lived in a mold-ridden shoebox apartment for years, working my ass off, clawing for a big break. And you know what?”

She smiled the saddest, most sarcastic smile she’d ever smiled, staring him dead in the eye.

“ _I_ made it. _I_ was handpicked by Maz Kanata _herself_ at _twenty three years old._ Hundreds of candidates. Seasoned, experienced artists. Household names. And she picked _me_.” She punctuated each word in her last sentence digging her forefinger into her own chest.

Then she breathed heavily, nostrils flaring out, and picked her case up, squaring her shoulders. “She. Picked. Me. Because I’m _that good._ And it’s gonna take more than a spoiled little momma’s boy to convince me otherwise.”

She turned on her heels and made it halfway through the corridor towards the staircase before she stopped again, turning back around. He was still standing in the same spot, staring at her.

“And you know what else?” she added. “Fuck you. Fuck you, you arrogant PRICK. You narcissistic ASSHOLE” she bellowed the last word, feeling her throat rip and her face go incredibly hot.

Only then did she finally walk away, making her way towards the car.

The drive back was different. When she looked out the window, nothing but cold darkness stared back at her. She couldn’t see a hint of green.

Silent tears rolled down her cheeks all the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: what initially pushed me into the Reylo trashcan was my Pride and Prejudice obsession. Please don't hate me. Love your faces!


	6. Blooming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, it's going to be a bumpy ride.  
> Let's go!

 

 

Rey didn’t touch her makeup collection on Sunday. On Friday, she’d been excited about trying out a new scarring technique she’d come up with on the subway ride home.  Knowing she had to be up early to work Jyn’s wedding on Saturday, she’d swallowed down her excitement, promising herself she’d try it out on Sunday. Then Sunday rolled in, and her FX collection lay under her vanity in its large plastic container, completely untouched.

Something stood between the woman she’d been on Friday and the woman she was on Sunday. His words stood between them.

He stood between them.

His voice echoed in her head, through her walls, in the sound of running water hitting the tiles as she showered, in a vain effort to wash his words away.

 Overrated. Passable.

The fact that she was granting him that much power over her self-esteem would infuriate her if she still had it in her to be angry. She didn’t. Sadness had taken over on her way back from Naboo, and it didn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon.

She’d been criticized before, alright.

A professor had once told her that her latex work was the sloppiest he’d ever seen. A debutante from Coruscant’s high society had once screamed at her, telling her she’d done everything wrong and ruined her special day. Rey didn’t charge her for the makeup, and the girl didn’t take it off for her party, beaming in every single picture. An art director had once thrown her brushes on her ground, asking her if she’d found her certificate in a dumpster.  

Nothing had ever hurt this much.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t said it to her face. He’d said it behind her back, when he thought she wasn’t listening. What else did people say about her when she wasn’t around? That her work looked pitiful? That she was pitiful?

That she was a charity case?

It left her wondering, and wondering was what kept her legs from moving, stranding her in bed.

A small part of her brain told her that her body was reacting like this because it had been him. Because the words had been uttered by his voice. His lips. Corroborated by his eyes. She did her best to ignore that part of her brain, because, if it was right, it meant he’d won in every single way.

She rubbed her eyes, sitting up in bed, her wet hair a tangled mess. When she looked outside, the sun was setting. He’d cost her an entire day.

She had to do something about it, she thought, reaching for her phone on her end table in the dimly lit bedroom. She must at least figure out how to get out of doing his makeup on Monday. Her skin crawled at the mere thought of touching his face.

The screen lit up and she rubbed her eyes again, tapping on a notification from several hours before.

 

 **_Jyn Erso:_ ** _U ok?_

 **_Jyn Erso:_ ** _Cass told me what happened_

 **_Jyn Erso:_ ** _Call me if you need to talk k?_

 **_Jyn Erso:_ ** _I’m worried._

 

The first message had been sent in the morning; the last one had just come through. Rey sighed, grabbing the phone with both hands.

 

 **_Rey:_ ** _Sorry, not ghosting you! Just overslept lol_

 **_Rey:_ ** _I’m fine, don’t worry about it! Been through worse XD_

 **_Rey:_ ** _Enjoy your honeymoon! Xxx_

 

She closed her eyes, swallowing hard. It wasn’t a lie. She _had_ been through worse. Then why was she feeling this way? So vulnerable? Exposed?

So, so small.

She swiped through threads, finally stopping when she saw Rose’s face. She tapped on it.

 

 **_Rey:_ ** _Can I ask you a huge huge huge favor?_

Rose began typing almost immediately.

 

 **_Rose:_ ** _Shoot_

 **_Rey:_ ** _I got a freelance job this week. Fancy photoshoot. Good networking._

 **_Rose:_ ** _That’s awesome!_

 **_Rey:_ ** _Yeah, but it’s 17 p.m-19p.m every day. I can manage Finn, Holdo and Poe, but not Kylo…_

 **_Rose:_ ** _Got your back. Don’t worry._

 **_Rey:_ ** _lysm <3_

 **_Rose:_ ** _I know XD_

 **_Rose:_ ** _It’s F &B on his face, right?_

 **_Rey:_ ** _Yeah, N1. Standard skin prep. A dab of Radiant Creamy under his eyes, super sheered out._

 **_Rey:_ ** _Laura Mercier just on the T-zone. Soap brows._

 **_Rey:_ ** _Shading with hoola lite if he looks washed out. I LOVE YOU._

 **_Rose:_ ** _Love you back <3 <3 <3 _

**_Rose:_ ** _BUT HOW WAS THE WEDDING?_

 **_Rey:_ ** _Awesome! Tell you in person. xxx_

 

She locked her phone screen, setting it back down and plopping back on her bed. At least that would buy her time to think.

 

_________________

 

Rey stared at the mirror in the makeup artist’s lounge, and a stranger stared back at her. It wasn’t the darkness underneath her eyes or the hollowness on her cheeks – she had dodged those with makeup pretty well, thank you very much. It was the dullness in her eyes and the stiffness around her lips; the flatness on her smile that made her look like a version of herself that belonged in a sad, sad alternate reality.

“Rey?” Rose called for the third time, and Rey finally heard her, turning around.

“Are you sure you’re OK? You look off,” her friend said, raising an eyebrow.

Rey nodded, trying to smile. “Yeah, no, I’m good. I must be coming down with something. Super tired. Bit of a headache.”

Rose hummed disapprovingly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Are you sure you should be doing this shoot? I know you hate missing opportunities, but don’t push yourself too hard, Rey.”

Rey’s heart sank. Lying through text had been easier, but standing in front of Rose and lying to her face was something else entirely. She ran her fingers through her hair, fixing her half bun.

“No, it’s fine, really. It’s super close. I’ll be back to do Amilyn, I promise.”

“I’m not worried about me, Rey, I’m worried about you.”

Her heart sunk further. How could she leave her friend with a man she couldn’t be alone with herself? What kind of person had she become?

What kind of person had he turned her into?

“I’m fine, babe! I promise.” She tried to smile again, reaching for her friend’s hand and squeezing it. “If he’s rude to you, you tell me, OK? You tell me and you let Leia know.”

Leia. She should have gone to her, warned her about her absence in Kylo’s show this week, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She knew her boss would see right through her.

She could tell her the truth, of course.

“I got your back.”

“He’ll be held accountable. He’s been warned.”

Leia’s voice kept replaying over and over in her head. She could tell her the truth, but, if she did, she’d just prove him right. She’d be acting like a protégé, hiding behind Leia’s skirts like a child, demanding special treatment.

No. She was an employee like any other, and she’d act like one. She’d be professional about this. She just needed to figure out how.  

Thinking about how cornered she was made her feel a hint of anger again, and she felt slightly better. Anger was so much better than this pit in her stomach and this constant burning in her eyes.

She didn’t want to be seen anywhere near RBS when she was supposed to be working on models a 15-minute drive away, so she walked aimlessly, heading south. Downtown Coruscant was far from beautiful, but it had its perks: a young man playing his flute with a dog curled up near his feet; and old woman in bright, colorful clothes walking around with a big smile; the façades of, big, old buildings dating back to easier times.

It was sunny and warm, and she walked without thinking too hard, her hands in her pockets. She loved people watching. As a kid, she’d create elaborate stories about people who walked by her. They’d be princesses, smugglers, farmer boys going on big adventures. She’d create great stories for herself too. About how she’d grow up and be someone. How she’d live in an apartment that didn’t smell bad, having a job she loved; how she’d get to order Chinese anytime she wanted. 

She sniffed, looking up at the sky. She’d made it, and he’d taken it away from her. He’d drained all color from her perfect life the very minute he’d made her question if she truly deserved it.

She walked wherever her feet would take her, until a small coffee shop caught her eye.

It looked old, and she could smell incense from where she was standing. Plants dominated the whole place, scattered around the floor, the window sill, hanging from walls, perched on small, worn out wooden tables. She didn’t make the rational decision to go in, but her feet took her there anyway.

A bell rang when she opened the door, and she looked around, a hand on the strap of the backpack on her shoulder. There was no one.

“Hello?” she called, looking over at the counter. No one answered.

“Excuse me?” she insisted, walking closer. The smell of incense was inebriating, but weirdly comforting.

“Good afternoon, child” a disembodied voice answered, and she jumped at the sound.

“Ham…. Hi?” she answered, looking behind her.

“Behind you I am not.” The voice said again, and she turned back around.

A tiny, wrinkly man emerged from behind the counter, moving slowly and leaning on a cane.

“Welcome to Yoda’s Hut” he said in a thin voice. His ears were big, and his eyes were almost hidden by the draping of his wrinkles. He was so short he’d been completely eclipsed by the counter.   

“You’re Yoda?” she asked, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Yes, yes” he answered enthusiastically. “Yoda I am indeed. And you are….”

“Rey.” she said. “I’m Rey.”

“ ‘sad’ I was going to say, young Rey.”

She blinked. His accent was thick. He must be from out of town, she thought. Dagobah, maybe? It would explain the excessive amount of plants.

“C’mon, sit down, sit down!” he exclaimed, threatening to poke her with his cane while he guided her to a table. “Interest you in some soup could I?” he asked as she put her backpack down.

She looked at a tiny stove behind the counter, where an ancient iron casserole exhaled dense vapors. It didn’t look too appealing. She cleared her throat.

“Ham… no, thank you. I’m not hungry.”

“Of course, of course” the old man said, tapping his cane on the floor. “Tea, maybe?”

She nodded and smiled. “Yes! Tea would be perfect. Thank you.”

“Ah! Yes. I know just what you need, young Rey” he exclaimed, walking back behind the counter and grabbing handfuls of herbs from random vases along the way.

He hummed a tune while he worked, and Rey fished her phone out of her pocket. No notifications. She wasn’t expecting any, but it still made her heart sink.

She just scrolled through Instagram until Yoda walked back holding a steaming cup. She tried to get up to help him out, but he swung his cane in her direction.

“No, no, no! Old I am. Useless I am not.” He said, spilling tea as he set the cup on her table.

“Thank you” she said, blowing on the hot liquid and taking a sip. It was a delicious herbal flavor she’d never tasted before, and it soothed her as if its warmth had slid right through the cracks in her heart.

“Good?” he asked.

“Delicious.” She smiled sincerely.

“Good, good. You take your time, young Rey. You take your time.” He responded, disappearing behind the counter again.

She sipped on her tea for a while, absent mindedly scrolling through social media but unable to focus on anything. Rose was with him right now, she thought, biting her lower lip. Would he be rude to her? Would he hurt her too? She swallowed down the lump on her throat.

Half an hour later, her phone buzzed, and she scurried to tap the notification.

 **_Rose:_ ** _He asked about you._

Rey read the message several times, hoping the words would morph into something else. They remained the same. How dare he?

 **_Rey:_ ** _Wut?_

 **_Rose:_ ** _Is he always on his feet when you go in?_

 **_Rose:_ ** _He’s weird, man._

 **_Rey:_ ** _On his feet?_

 **_Rose:_ ** _Yeah. He was on his feet when I went in, looked at me like I was a ghost. Asked me where you were._

 **_Rey:_ ** _What did you tell him?_

 **_Rose:_ ** _The truth. Asked me when you’ll be back too, I said Monday. That’s it, right?_

 

Rey sighed, closing her eyes. What the hell was she going to do?

 

 **_Rey:_ ** _Yeah, Monday! Was he rude to you?_

 **_Rose:_ ** _No. Dead silent the entire time. He’s weird, man._

 **_Rose:_ ** _Radiant Creamy sheered out didn’t cut it under his eyes, btw. Had to go in with an extra layer. Boy must have partied HARD this weekend._

 **_Rose:_ ** _Almost touch-up time, catch you later babe. Xx_

Rey locked her screen, closing her eyes again and burying her face in her hands. She couldn’t go back to doing his makeup on Monday. What was she going to do?

 

_____________________

 

Going to Yoda’s Hut in the afternoon became a habit that week. She’d get to work earlier in the morning and leave later, avoiding running into him in the lobby and the elevator. In the afternoon, she’d say goodbye to Rose and Paige with a heavy heart and walk down to Yoda’s. He’d serve her a new delicious tea every day, and, while she was sipping on it, she could almost believe she was going to be fine.

But how could she be fine? Friday came around, and she still didn’t have a solution. She’d have to talk to Leia, she thought, sipping on her tea. It wasn’t ideal and it _would_ prove him right, but it was the only way. She’d go to her office that evening after Poe, she decided, rubbing her eyes. She’d tell Leia everything and let her know she couldn’t do Kylo’s makeup anymore. Maybe Rose could become his permanent artist and she’d get to do guests. The idea made her heart race with anxiety.

Because, despite everything, some part of her still wanted to do his makeup. Some part of her missed his annoying questions, his beautiful skin, his deep voice. She wanted to snuff that part out, suffocate it, stab it if she had to, but she couldn’t seem to get rid of it.

She was a mess.  

Had she always been a mess? Maybe, she admitted, thinking back to late nights locked in bathrooms, using her foster moms’ makeup in secret. Some of them would find out. Some would be angrier than others. She shivered.

It was a cruel cosmic joke that the closest she’d ever come to having a loving mother was with Leia. The idea had once felt so comforting and right, and now it seemed wrong and out of place because of what he had said.  Was he right? Was she just a protégé?  An impostor?

No, she told herself firmly, gripping her cup tighter. What she’d told Kylo was true. She’d made it on her own merits.

Her thoughts wandered to a room three years before.

\-----------

_Thirteen artists stood there, opening their cases, fixing their belts. They were the ones who had made it through the long selection process – the CV analysis, the interviews, the portfolio critique. Rey hadn’t even considered the opening at RBS as a possibility the first time she heard Maz Kanata was retiring.  She knew she’d never make it. She was only 23._

_But then she couldn’t afford rent that month. Or the next. Desperation engulfed her, and she submitted her CV and her portfolio. She had nothing to lose._

_A month later, there she was, the youngest artist in a room full of legends. She could recognize most of the faces – some of them from books and college lectures._

_The biggest legend in the room was Maz Kanata, though. Rey couldn’t breathe when she saw her for the first time. So small. So iconic. She was so old her brushes trembled in her hands, but she could still blend eyeshadow so impeccably you’d say the model was born with a black smokey eye._

_“Wing it” Maz said, looking at the thirteen candidates. “Freestyle it. Show me what you’ve got.”_

_Rey looked around. The workstations were full of black liners and bright lipsticks. The others were going for Maz’s signature look: a bold lip and a graphic gel liner._

_Rey reached for white pancake, not giving herself the time to overthink it. Go big or go home._

_An hour and a half later, her stomach churned as Maz walked around, hands behind her back. Rey looked at her model, her hands feeling exceptionally cold. She’d done a Marie Antoinette inspired look, bright pink cheeks over stark white skin. She wanted to showcase her blending techniques, blending the pink into the white as seamlessly as she could, building layers, blending again, layering one more time until her fingers hurt. She did the same for the eyes, the smokey copper starting on the outer corners and making its way down to the lower lash line, causing the model to look deliberately sad. She painted the brows white too, giving the look and eerily delicate and sad energy._

_Time stopped as Maz approached her workstation, frowning._

_The woman leaned in, inspecting the skin, and stared at the model for what seemed like ages. Then she grabbed Rey’s hand and dragged her out of the room._

_Was that it? Had she done so badly she was just getting kicked out? Her head was spinning when Maz pulled her into the elevator, never letting go of her hand._

_She was hauled down a long corridor, and then Maz opened a door without knocking._

_Rey was face to face with Leia Organa for the first time._

_“Yes, Maz?” Leia said, taking off her glasses, a playful smile on her lips._

_Maz raised Rey’s hand. “This one,” she said._

_Leia stared at Rey, and she felt completely naked. “This one? How old are you?”_

_“23” Rey choked out._

_“You’re sure, Maz?” Leia asked, still smiling._

_“Yes,” Maz nodded vehemently. “I’ll teach her. I’ll train her. She has it.”_

_Leia nodded, looking back at Rey. “Is this the next Maz Kanata, then?”_

_“No,” Maz shook her head. “Not the next Maz Kanata. The first….”_

_“Rey.” Rey stammered, not believing her ears. “Rey Niima.”_

_Maz smiled at her, her huge glasses sliding up her nose, and squeezed her hand. “The very first Rey Niima.”_

\-------

She had deserved it, she told herself again, opening her eyes. She had made it. He wasn’t taking it away from her. He _wasn’t_ winning _anything_. He _wasn’t_ right about her.

Just as she made up her mind, Yoda came around with a second cup of tea she hadn’t ordered.

“A different one now you need,” he said, setting the cup on her table.

She looked back and forth between him and the cup, knitting her brows in confusion.

“When you allow other people to define your worth, young Rey, lost yourself you have.”

Then he disappeared back behind the counter, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

 

_____________________

 

Rey looked at the clock on the MUA’S lounge. She had decided to go to Leia when the corridors were emptier and most people had already left. Somehow, it sounded easier that way.

Rose and Paige had already left, and she’d stayed behind, telling them she needed to clean her brushes. She didn’t have to, though, so she just sat there, waiting for the right time.

Ten minutes. Ten more minutes and she could go.

Her hands were shaking, and she tried to keep them busy by playing around with a phone charger Rose had forgotten. Telling Leia the truth was embarrassing, but the alternative was being trapped in a room with him on Monday, and that was just unthinkable.

She was wrapping the white cord around her finger when there was a knock on the door.

“Shit,” she cursed under her breath. Rose had come back for her charger.

She got up, trying to think up an excuse for the obvious lack of brush cleaning in the room, when the door creaked open.

It wasn’t Rose.

Her heart started to pound violently against her ribcage the moment she saw him. He had obviously already washed his face, and, without Rose’s skillful concealing work, Kylo looked like he’d been to hell and back.

A dark shade of purple stained the skin under his eyes, and he looked paler and thinner. His eyes were dull, not a trace of his usual nonchalant cockiness to be seen.

They looked at each other in silence for a long moment, and his voice sounded raspy when he finally spoke.

“Can we talk?”

“No.” Rey spat, making for her locker to grab her backpack. This couldn’t be happening. She needed to get the fuck out of there.

He took a step closer, closing the door behind him.

“Rey…” he said, his voice resonating on her bones.

It was the first time he’d said her name. It sounded like a prayer escaping his lips.   

Fuck him. Damn him and his voice. She was frozen in place, her hand on her key, her key in her locker’s keyhole.

Then he spoke again.

“We don’t have to talk. You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to answer. I just need to say something.” She couldn’t see him, but his voice was low and thick with emotion, and she could only picture a pair of pleading eyes.

She kept silent, still facing her locker, and he took it as permission to keep talking.

“I’m sorry.”

Her brain froze for a second. She kept her eyes on her keychain, the tiny plastic panda bear suddenly becoming the most interesting object in the world.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, and she swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean any of it. But what I meant doesn’t matter. What matters is what I said and what you heard, and what I said was disgusting. And inexcusable.”

She finally turned to face him, her mouth slightly open. Had she hit her head and fallen into a weird comatose dream?

His eyes were unusually shiny, and he clenched his jaw, doing _that_ thing with his lips.

“I only said it ‘cause I…. I was afraid of…” he ran his hands through his hair, suddenly turning into an oversized boy lost in a supermarket.

“I don’t know what I was afraid of. And it doesn’t matter. But I regret it. Every waking hour. I regret it, and I’d do anything to take it back. Because you’re not mediocre Rey. You’re exceptional.”

There was a weird ringing in her ears, and all of a sudden she couldn’t feel her legs. He took a step closer, putting his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders. He looked much shorter than he really was.

“You’re incredible. The first time you did my face… when you left these showing” he turned his head, exposing his cheek and the constellation of moles on it. “I’d… I’d never thought of leaving them showing as a possibility. The sky was blue. Water was wet. These had to be covered up if I wanted to be on TV. Then you came along, and you said fuck that.” He swallowed hard, clenching his jaw again. “I thought I’d feel exposed. Naked. I’d never felt so free.”

Rey leaned against her locker, feeling like her legs might give in any second now. She was pretty sure he was able to hear her heart beating from across the room.

“And it’s not just the makeup. It’s how you hold yourself. How you hold your brushes. How you mix in concealer like you’re about to restore the Mona Lisa. How you open up your palettes like you’re opening sacred texts.” He took another step closer, staring her dead in the eye. “You’re an artist. An exceptional one. And I need you to know that every single person that I’ve ever heard talking about you has said the exact same thing.”

She didn’t know someone could do that, reach into your chest, pull out a dark cloud and make it disappear into thin air. She felt warmth on her cheeks, but she didn’t know when she’d started crying.

“I’ve looked you up on Instagram” he continued, suddenly breaking his gaze and looking at his shoes. “You’d have to be crazy to look at it and not think you’re phenomenal.”    

“Let me guess, you loved the watercolor series”, she said, her voice feeling rusty, as if she hadn’t used it in years. Bitter sarcasm dripped from every word. She was proud of her watercolors, of course, but it seemed to be the only thing people noticed. Maybe because they never took the time to scroll down.   

He nodded, looking at her again. “It’s beautiful. But my favorite is your ‘Blooming’ series.”

She was sure her heart had stopped for a second, and you could hear a pin drop in the room. That series was almost three years old. How had he seen it?

She’d had the idea on her first week working for RBS. Barefaced models with flowers and vegetation sprouting from their naked skin, their face, their necks, their hands. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done, because it had to look effortless. The latex work had to look seamless; the flowers had to look like they were truly growing out of pores. But how did you make latex look seamless without using any foundation to blend the edges?

She’d spent entire nights mixing latex with different solvents and pigments, fighting for the perfect texture. Some concoctions had burned her skin. Some had looked too thick, like play-doh; others were too thin and runny, not controllable enough.

The vision wouldn’t leave her head, though. She’d close her eyes and see it. Blooming skin. It took her two months to get it right. It looked so seamless that any outsider looking in would think it had been the easiest job on the planet. Maybe that’s why no one paid much attention to it.

“It’s old work”, she said, her voice a little more steady.

He shrugged. “It’s stunning. Haunting. It’s raw. Sheer power, straight to the stomach. It makes you want to look away, and then it also makes you want to look at it forever and not look at anything else ever again.”

His hazel eyes pierced into hers, and his voice cracked ever so slightly when he said, barely above a whisper. “It’s just like you.” 

Hot tears were running freely down her face now, and she couldn’t raise her hand to wipe them. Pressed against her locker, she could only stare at him and pray the world would eventually stop spinning so fast.

“I know you don’t have another job, Rey.” His voice was thick again. “I know you’re just avoiding me, and you have every right to do so. But I don’t want your job to be affected by me. A _narcissistic asshole._ ”

He let out a bitter chuckle. “You’re too good for that.”

His shoulders hunched even more when he said “Come on Monday.”

Then his eyes went impossibly bright, and he barely moved his trembling lips.  

 “Please.”

She wanted to be angry. To scream at him again, call him names, maybe slap him once. But she couldn’t when there was so much raw honesty in his eyes. All of a sudden, she didn’t even feel sad anymore. Her head felt weirdly light, and there was some sort of annoying little creature fluttering in her chest.

She nodded.

He swallowed hard.

“Yes? You’re coming?”

Rey nodded again. “Yes.”

She wiped her tears, finally regaining control of her limbs. “For me,” she added defiantly.

He nodded, looking down at his shoes again. “Of course.” He mumbled. “Of course.”

“Thank you, Rey” he whispered before he turned around and walked out the door, still looking at the ground. When he was out of sight, she slid down slowly, her back flat against the lockers. She only stopped when she was curled up on the ground, hugging her knees. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexa, play Evermore in Dan Stevens' voice! 
> 
> Comments and feedback are life! Love your faces <3 
> 
> PS.: The makeup look that got Rey hired was based on this stunning piece by Kimberley Margarita. If you don’t know her work yet, you're missing out. Beautiful artist! https://www.instagram.com/p/BdWNpgqF1W-/


	7. Honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry this took longer than usual! I wanted their interaction to flow as naturally as possible here, so the chapter ended up being a little longer. Hope you enjoy!

 

 

From the first time she stepped into Yoda’s Hut, Rey had loved how calm and empty the place was, but, that Monday morning, she felt especially thankful that no one else was around to see the faces she was pulling while trying to use her phone as a mirror. In her defense, you couldn’t check concealer or apply mascara without looking crazy, she thought, moving her lips around and trying to check for any creasing under her eyes. The concealer seemed to be holding up nicely so far, so she just put the phone back in her pocket, tucking her hair behind her ear.   

She wasn’t used to going high coverage, but that’s what she decided to go for when she looked at herself in the mirror that morning and saw the deep, dark circles dragging her eyes down.  She blamed him. Because maybe, just maybe, she would have been able to sleep a wink if his voice would stay the fuck out of her head.

It wouldn’t, though. “It’s stunning...”

“Just like you.”

Of course that’s not what he’d meant. Of course her brain had heavily edited the entire dialogue and decided to stick with those two tiny sentences, repeating them in a loop until she went crazy. And it was succeeding. Because she did feel like she was going a little crazy every time his face popped up in her head, every single detail engraved on her brain, tempting her like a siren’s call.

“There you go, young Rey,” Yoda’s voice said, and she could only see his tiny hand setting a paper cup on the counter. She leaned over the old wooden surface, far enough to meet his hooded eyes with a smile.

“Thank you, mr. Yoda! Have a good day,” she said, smiling and putting the money in the dusty jar that sat on the counter.

“Come again, young Rey. Need it you will,” she heard him answer from behind the counter as she walked back into the world.

Thinking that  she wouldn’t have Yoda’s tea to comfort her that afternoon had made her heart sink a little that morning, so she’d decided no hop out of the subway a station before hers, stopping by to grab some to go. As she sipped it, making her way to RBS, she was glad she’d done it. It tasted fresh and comforting, something vanilla-y with a hint of mint. It made her smile in spite of how heavy her stomach felt.

13:53, the big digital clock on the sidewalk screamed at her. He’d be there at 2. But would he be there at 2? It had only been a week, but it still felt like she’d been avoiding him for so long that she’d lost track of his schedule, and it made her heart race with anxiety.

Why did she care about his schedule?

She didn’t, she decided, picking up her pace.

When she walked into the lobby, making for the elevator, he wasn’t there. Perfect, she thought, looking at her phone. It said 14:02. Maybe he’d changed his schedule too. That was ideal, her brain told her, trying to ignore the lump forming in her throat.

She pressed the button, and the floor numbers started to go backwards slowly on the display. Why had he changed his schedule? He’d always been so adamant about it. It was unlike him, that’s all, she told herself as the elevator reached the fifth floor. Fourth. Third.

It was uncharacteristic. That’s why her heart wouldn’t stop sinking in time with the elevator. That was all.

Two. One.

She took a deep breath as the doors slid open and stepped forward, fixing her hair. If he was avoiding her, good for him, she thought.

And then a deep  voice called from behind her.

“Hold it!”

She held the door instinctively, and turned around just in time to see him running in her direction, a mane of raven-black hair flying around his face. He was panting heavily when he walked in, but his eyes were fixated on her. She made a point not to look directly at him.

“Thank you,” he panted, and she just nodded, crossing her arms in front of her chest. They stood in silence for a few seconds before he finally spoke again.

“I think you have to...” he mumbled, pointing at the panel.

She pressed the button to their floor with more violence than strictly needed.

“I was just giving you the time to catch your breath,” she replied stubbornly, still looking at anything but him. His panting was doing something very odd to her lower abdomen, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“You’re in sync with my schedule again,” he said. In her peripheral vision, she could tell he was fixing his hair.

“Well,” she said, clutching her tea tighter and taking a sip “I _was_ here before, so technically _you’re_ the one in sync with _my_ schedule.”

He turned his head to look at her properly, but they reached their floor before he could answer.

She darted out as soon as the doors were open, but she still heard his voice as he called out “See you later?”

“Yeah”, she said, still looking straight ahead.

 

______________

 

“Rey, are you even listening to me?” Finn said, feigning anger.

Rey tapped the brush handle on her hand, removing excess powder and avoiding direct eye contact.

“Of course I am,” she said. “Something cranberry sauce.”

Finn rolled his eyes. “You’re in another planet, peanut. You’re doing Kylo, right?”

She choked on her own saliva, coughing hard and hitting her chest with a closed fist.

“Excuse me?” she managed to choke out.

“Kylo,” Finn repeated, looking slightly worried and slightly amused. “You’re doing his makeup today, right? You didn’t last week. That’s why you’re all skittish. Got used to the good, Kylo-free life?” he asked, smiling triumphantly.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure, his makeup. Yeah, that’s it.” She said, clearing her throat as she powdered his T-zone.

“30 seconds, guys!” A voice yelled from behind the cameras, and Rey pecked Finn on the cheek, running offstage.

It had been the last touch-up. As soon as the last part of Finn’s show was over, she’d have to go to Kylo’s dressing room. Her stomach churned.

He’d just be silent right? He usually was. But, then again, he was always silent during the elevator ride, and today he hadn’t been. What the hell was she supposed to do if he started talking?

Of course she didn’t want to talk to him. His apology had seemed sincere enough, alright, and she _had_ left the studio that Friday feeling a thousand pounds lighter.

And she _had_ been super excited to play around with her FX collection during the weekend.

 And she _had_ thought about him for 48 hours straight.

That being said, he was still an asshole. Nothing had changed. Right?

The backflip her stomach did when his voice said “Come in!” forty minutes later had to be perfectly normal.

When she opened the door, inhaling deeply, he was sitting on his chair, staring at the door, no book or newspaper to be seen. She didn’t say anything, trying to avoid eye contact as she made for her work bench.

“It _is_ you,” he said, sounding surprised.

“I said I’d come, didn’t I?” she answered, her voice as neutral as possible.

“Yeah, yeah, sure” he stammered “I just thought maybe…. I don’t know. Never mind.”

Good, she thought, squirting sanitizer on her hand so hard it spurted all over the floor.

“Shit,” she cursed under her breath, rubbing her hands together and reaching for her makeup wipes. She was off to a great start.

She came closer to cleanse his face, trying to keep up with her usual routine, but her heart did something funny when she saw it. There it was. The constellation of dark stars on his face. Lying in her bed during the weekend, she’d realized she had memorized every single one of them. It made her mouth go dry and her throat itch.

“How was your weekend?” he asked, never taking his eyes off her. She didn’t know if she missed his silent paper reading or not.

“Normal. Just FX practice,” she answered in a detached tone, reaching for a beauty blender and her trusty Bobbi brown moisturizer.

He raised an eyebrow. “What’s FX?”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Special effects makeup. Burns, scars, gashes, cuts, injuries.”

He looked genuinely intrigued, staring at her face. She kept avoiding direct eye contact. “How do you do that?” he asked.

So he _was_ going to play talkative. God help her. She sighed. “It depends. Latex, cotton, tissue paper, ground coffee, prosthetics.”  

He wasn’t giving up. “What does it depend on?”

“On what you’re trying to achieve. The effect you want. How much time you’ve got.” She kept her tone detached, as impersonal and professional as she could.

He was silent for a few minutes, long enough for her to start working on his foundation. Then he spoke again.

“That’s how you did the blooming skin, right? Special effects?”

She nodded. “Yes. Latex work.”

“Is that your passion? FX?”

Oh, she’d be damned if she started telling this man what she was passionate about. She opened the concealer so violently she almost broke the lid.

“Listen,” she started, finally unable to keep up her façade, “you don’t have to overcompensate, OK? We’re cool. But we don’t have to be friends or anything.”

She finally looked him in the eye, and what she saw made her regret her words instantly. Hurt, plain and simple. Unguarded. She swallowed hard.

“Sure. Sorry. I was just curious.” He mumbled, finally breaking his gaze and looking at the wall.

She worked in silence for a few more minutes before finally giving in. Damn her and her empathetic heart, she thought.

“Artistic makeup. That’s my passion. Sometimes it includes FX techniques, sometimes it’s just regular makeup handled differently. Sometimes it’s body paint. Whatever it takes to achieve your vision.”

He looked at her again, seemingly shocked she had even answered. Then he kept staring at her in silence for another couple minutes. It eventually drove her mad.

“Aren’t you going to say anything? You piss me off when you’re quiet like that.”

“I piss you off when I talk, too,” he answered.

“Well,” she replied, still blending the concealer, “life’s just a fucking box of chocolates, isn’t it?”

And then it happened.

For the second time in her life, she watched his lips morph into a smile, but now he was smiling at her. He tried to hold it back, which just made his mouth look even fuller and his eyes look even brighter, but then, when he couldn’t hold it any longer, he was smiling wide, letting out a throaty chuckle.

She tried to keep a straight face for as long as she could, holding her beauty blender midair, but then her traitorous lips also morphed into a smile she couldn’t hold back.

“Oh fuck you,” she said, still smiling.

“Did you just quote Forrest Gump to diss me?” he asked

“Whoa, such genius, much smart,” she retorted, turning around to find her translucent powder and to hide her stupid smile.

“A diss that didn’t even make any sense!” he said, running his fingers through his hair. His hair. It smelt so good.

“Yes it did!” she protested, grabbing a fluffy powder brush from her belt.

“Well, maybe a bit. I never know what I’m getting with you.” He was still smiling. Couldn’t he stop that already? It made her heart beat uncomfortably fast.

“Well, I aim to please,” she said, and she couldn’t help but smile back at him.

 

__________

 

 

 By the end of the week, she realized she’d been staying longer in his dressing room every time she went in. It wasn’t a conscious decision, of course, but she shouldn’t deny it was happening. Especially not on a particular Friday, three weeks after his apology, when she looked at her phone, closing the door behind her and realized she’d been there for almost an hour and a half. 

It wasn’t her fault. He’d ask all sorts of questions, and she had to answer. It was the polite thing to do. Then one question would lead to another, and all of a sudden she’d be talking about her favorite color, her favorite food, how she’d name her pets when she moved into a building that allowed them. She’d also laugh when he said something funny, and counter all his quick remarks with spunky comebacks that always made him laugh, too.

She did it often, because she found out she loved his laugh.

It filled the entire room and lit up his entire face, turning his eyes into pure honey, sweet and golden.

She thought about his laughing eyes on Monday morning, when she was getting ready to go to work,  and it made her feel something weird in her stomach. Not butterflies, no. Definitely not butterflies. Moths, maybe? Bees? Some kind of flying insect, but definitely not butterflies.

She’d recently started to pay attention to his show as well. In their long talks, he’d told her a lot about his interviewing process. As it turned out, it was an obscene amount of work. He’d be buried in public libraries and archives for hours on end, exploring public records, searching for clues. He’d also have to track down sources, interview witnesses, work diligently on trying to gather as much reliable information and as many unpublished documents as he possibly could. Exes, estranged relatives, high school classmates, college roommates: every witness counted, and getting each one to talk was always an uphill battle. He didn’t just bully guests into confessing random things, as she eventually learned, but knew exactly what he wanted to make them admit to and expertly weaved the conversation to achieve his goal. It was an art, based on an extensive and exhausting research process.

“I have to have the evidence to back it up, you know. Make sure people are held accountable. And make sure I control the situation properly. There are things I learn that I want to keep them from confessing by accident. Things that would be unethical to expose.” 

Her thoughts wandered straight to Finn, and she felt her chest go tight but warm at the same time.

Knowing what she did now, she’d started to stay in the studio while they aired the show instead of just hanging backstage and showing up for touch-ups like she did before. Her newfound knowledge made everything look different.

His look, his attitude, the way he talked. Sometimes he’d tell her where he wanted to go  with the interview beforehand, and she’d be able to follow his strategy from the very first question. How he maneuvered meticulously, asking innocent questions that would later be compromising, but that the unknowing guest would answer gladly, unable to see his second and third intentions. How he’d change his tone and his body language when he wanted to provoke a certain emotion; how he’d make the guest feel particularly safe when he got to critical points.

She just watched in awe. He wasn’t a lion at all. He was a spider, expertly weaving his beautiful net, always managing to catch his prey.

He was nothing like the Kylo she knew backstage, of course. The man who smiled his gorgeous smile at her, his eyes beaming, eager to know everything about her life and listening to everything she said with heartfelt curiosity. Onstage Kylo was a different one, but she was starting to think she didn’t dislike him as much. He didn’t make her feel comfortable and warm inside like the other one did, but she couldn’t deny there was something impressive about him.

It helped that he didn’t interview just people that she liked anymore. His guest list was now extremely diverse, ranging from conservative congressmen to popular singers and independent activists. He treated everyone with the same passionate professionalism, and it made her unable to tear her eyes away. 

She was still thinking about him and trying to place that feeling in her stomach when she walked into Yoda’s Hut on Monday. By now, he’d always have her tea of the day prepared and on the counter the second she walked in, but, today, there were two cups.

“Hm, Mr. Yoda?” she said reluctantly, leaning over the counter to see him. He was humming a tune while tending to some plants, and raised his eyes slowly.

“Hello, young Rey.” He said in his thin voice.

“Hi! Which tea is mine?” she asked, smiling.

“Both.” He answered simply, returning his attention to the little vase before him.

“I never drink two, Mr. Yoda. It’s just me.” She said, worried he might be going slightly forgetful. He did look old, after all.

“Oh, yes, yes” he waved his hands, walking towards another vase. “But choose today I could not. You might need both.” He answered matter-of-factly.

She’d learned not to question his eccentric ways, so she just put the money in the jar and grabbed both cups, saying her goodbyes and walking out the door.

When she stepped on the sidewalk, a gushing wind told her it was about to rain.

“Shit,” she mumbled, making her way to RBS as quickly as she possibly could. The sky was going a more sinister shade of gray with each second that went by, and the traffic was completely jammed for several blocks. It was going to be a long day.

When she was about a block away, a heavy raindrop fell on her shoulder, and she sprinted towards the double doors as fast as her legs would take her. Being wet the entire day was the last thing she needed.

As soon as she’d made it through the door, the sky collapsed outside. The drops were thick and heavy, furiously clashing against the glass doors in a deafening symphony. She panted, collapsing on an old couch to catch her breath and setting the two cups, miraculously intact, on a coffee table in front of her. It took her about five minutes to pull herself together, get up and make for the elevator. She needed a gym membership immediately, she thought, sipping on one of the teas. It was strong, complex and rich, and it made her chest feel nice and warm.

Her heart sank when she saw Kylo wasn’t waiting for the elevator, and she mentally reprimanded her body for the irrational reactions it seemed to be having lately. Of course he was stuck in traffic. The city was chaotic.

When the elevator was on the ninth floor, though, she heard a commotion by the door and heavy footsteps on the slate floor. She turned to look instinctively, and there he was, panting, bended forward, his hands on his knees.

Soaking wet from head to toe.

He raised his eyes slowly to look at her, and time stopped.

His hair looked even darker than it usually was, plastered against his cheeks and forehead, and heavy water drops fell on the floor when he ran his finger through it, trying to get it off his face.

A small pool of water formed around him, and, when he stood up straight again, walking towards her, she noticed he was wearing a white t-shirt.

God help her.

The water had made it completely see through, and it clung to every single bump on his body. His abdomen was fully exposed, an apollonian sculpture of defined muscle, his nipples a dark, high relief shadow underneath the thin fabric.

She swallowed hard, but her mouth was so dry it just hurt.

“Hi,” he said timidly as he approached, still shivering and trying to dry his hair as well as he could. When he was close enough, she could see goose bumps covering every inch of hs exposed skin. She didn’t even notice the elevator doors had been open for a while.

“What happened to you? Didn’t you park in the parking garage?” she asked, her voice coming out a lot more high pitched than she intended. She kept her eyes on his face, trying as hard as she could not to look as his exposed torso.

“Traffic was hell,” he said, walking into the elevator. She followed. He pressed the button and went on. “Had to turn off the engine about seven blocks away. I didn’t want to be late, so I just parked on a side street and decided to walk the rest of the way. Then it started raining.”

“Kylo, your show doesn’t start until six. You wouldn’t be late. Didn’t you hear the thunders? You should have waited in the car!” she said, exasperated. It seemed like the rain had intensified his scent, just like it did to soil, grass and trees. It inebriated her.

He stammered, looking and sounding a lot like a kid caught red handed stealing cookies. “Yeah… well… I…. you know,” he ran his fingers through his drenched hair again, the water drops painting a pattern of dark circles on the blue carpet. “I have a set routine. I don’t like changing it,” he shrugged, still shivering.

She rolled her eyes. It did sound just like him, running seven blocks in the pouring rain to avoid changing his precious routine. He was still shivering when the doors opened again, and, without thinking twice, she handed him her second cup of tea.

“Here, drink it. You’ll catch a cold,” she ordered, extending the cup she wasn’t drinking as they walked out of the elevator.

He stopped for a second.

“Wasn’t that for someone else?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, the guy just gave me two for whatever reason. Take it, c’mon. You’ll feel better.”

He took the cup reluctantly, and his hand promptly covered its diameter completely.

Damn. She’d never noticed how big they were.  

He sipped the tea, his eyes going wide with surprise.

“Hm,” he said, swallowing and licking his lips, “it’s good. Delicate, kinda floral, but with a punch. Is it cinnamon?”

She shrugged. “Wouldn’t know. The guy just does his thing, but it’s always delicious.”

He took another big gulp, the goose bumps on his arms finally starting to disappear.

Not that she was staring.

“C’mon, go to your dressing room, take a hot shower, change out of those clothes. I don’t wanna have to cover up a snotty, Rudolph-red nose,” she said, starting to walk again.

He laughed wholeheartedly, beaming at her. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

____________

 

When she walked into his dressing room that afternoon, he wasn’t wearing his white t-shirt anymore. He had partially changed into his show host attire, minus his jacket and tie. His trademark black dress shirt was unbuttoned just enough for Rey to be able to see a hint of his sternum. She desperately wished she’d brought a bottle of water with her.

When he saw her, he smiled wide, pointing at his nose.

“See?” he asked triumphantly, “No snot.”

“Just the way I like it,” she teased, making him throw his head back laughing. It exposed his chest even more, and made his neck look so…. So…..

She looked away quickly, focusing on her case.

“That tea did it, I think. Thanks.” He said, making himself comfortable in his chair.

“You’re welcome. It’s good, isn’t it?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, delicious. Where did you get it?”

She shrugged, getting started on skin prep. “Tiny coffee shop nearby. Found it by accident when…”

She stopped. When she was avoiding him would be the honest answer. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

“…..when I was wandering around one day. The owner’s adorable. Batshit crazy, but adorable.  He kinda personalizes the tea, you never know what you’re going to get.”

“Like a box of chocolates,” he said, obviously making a huge effort to keep a straight face.

She threw her head back laughing, throwing the used makeup wipe at him. “Fuck you,” she said as he picked up the wipe, smiling, and threw it on her work bench.

“So, who’s the victim today?” she asked, still smiling.

He spent the following half hour talking about Lirin Car'n, a popular musician he was going to corner for tax evasion. His investigation process on this one had been fascinating, and she listened intently, only looking away when her phone screen lit up on the bench. A red notification had popped up, and she checked it while she was preparing the soap for his brows.

“Fuck,” she cursed, locking her phone screen again.

“Everything alright?” he asked, sitting up straight on his chair, a worried look in his eyes.

“Yeah, just the damn rain. Traffic warning. My subway line’s completely flooded, they don’t know how long it’s gonna take to normalize the situation.” She sighed, running her hands through her long bob. “Getting home’s gonna be hell”

“I can drive you home,” he said, not skipping a beat.

She blinked, and all of a sudden he seemed to realize what he’d just blurted out.

“I mean,” he stammered, “if you want to. We’d have to walk to my car, but it’s better than… whatever’s going on with the subway.”

“No, you really don’t have to. I’ll manage. Thanks,” she answered, feeling her cheeks blush. What was wrong with her?

“C’mon Rey. It’s the least I can do. God knows how long it’ll take you to get home. It can be dangerous.”

She concentrated on his brows for a few seconds, thinking about it. It did sound better than any of her other options, and a part of her brain was yelling that, yes, please, some more time alone with him would be…..

She forced that part to shut up.

“No, I can’t ask you to do that. I live far.  It’s gonna be late.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be late, which means no traffic for me, but dangerous streets for you. C’mon Rey. You know it makes sense.”

Then she looked into his eyes, seeing two pleading pools of sweet, sweet honey. She sighed again.

“Alright. Just today,” she said, and he smiled.

“Good. I’ll wait for you outside the lounge after Dameron.”

She smiled back at him, wishing, once again, she’d brought a big water bottle with her.

She couldn’t concentrate on much else for the rest of the day, and, as she put her case away that evening and grabbed her backpack from her locker, those stupid bees were throwing a party inside her stomach again. She drank some water in large gulps, hoping to drown them or at least make her mouth feel less dry.

Why was she stressing out over a damn ride home?

When she opened the door, he was waiting there, leaning against the wall in the same shirt he was wearing when she did his makeup. The bees seemed to have survived the flood, after all.

“Ready to go?” he asked, smiling, and she nodded, smiling back.

The elevator ride was comfortably silent, and they only spoke again when they’d left the building. The asphalt was still wet, glistening under the stars as if studded with a million tiny diamonds. It still smelt like rain. Rey smiled.

“It’s that way,” Kylo said, pointing to the right. “About seven blocks. I can go get it if you’re too tired.”

“No!” she shook her head, heading the direction he’d pointed to. “I’ll survive seven blocks.”

He smiled, his hair going a deep shade of blue under the moonlight. Rey had to look away for a second.

She cleared her throat. “Nice show today. Lirin’s still trying to figure out what hit him.”

Kylo laughed, putting his hand in his pockets. “Thanks,” he said, looking at the ground. “Not the hardest job. He isn’t the smartest.”

It was Rey’ turn to laugh, looking at him. “He isn’t stupid. You’re just good.”

Rey could almost swear she’d seen his cheeks blush when his face was illuminated by the cool light of a street lamp, but then they were in the dark again. He just looked up from the ground, smiling back at her.

“I owe you an apology, by the way,” she said, putting her hands in her pockets as well and looking up at the moon.

“What for?”

His voice was intrigued, but she didn’t see his face.

“For that day. When I said you were untalented.”

“Rey, nothing you said that day was uncalled for,” he said, his voice going slightly hoarse.

She shook her head, looking back at him. “No, I’m not saying it was uncalled for in that moment. Just that I was wrong. You’re not a bully. You’re very talented.”

He looked away, all of a sudden looking very interested in a random billboard across the street. “Thanks,” he finally said when he turned his head again, a shy smile on his lips.    

“You’re welcome. I’m very magnanimous,” she said.

He cracked up, the sound of his laughter ricocheting on the wet asphalt and lodging itself in her heart.

They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, and had almost reached the fifth block when he spoke again.

“What did you study in college?”

She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the brightness of another street lamp. “Sorry?” she asked.

“That…. That day. You talked about college. I was wondering what you’d study to become a makeup artist. ”

“There are a few ways to do it,” she answered, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Some people study cosmetology and then specialize in makeup. I’ve never cared about hair, nails and stuff, so I went to a makeup artistry school.”

“I thought it would be more of a hands-on kind of thing,” he said, looking curious.    

She nodded. “Yeah, a big chunk of it is hands-on. Lots of workshops, lots of practical classes. But there’s a lot of theoretical stuff, too. Color theory, chemistry, product formulation, formula interaction, makeup history. You name it.”

He nodded, looking genuinely interested. “Never thought about makeup artists needing to know chemistry. Makes sense.”

“Yeah, especially if you want to go into development and stuff. Have your own makeup line,” she said, as he guided her to a side street.

“Do you want that someday? Have your own line?”

She chuckled, looking at him. “No, not at all. But I do want to work in film someday. Or series. Somewhere I can create characters, you know?”

“You’d be great at it,” he said earnestly, fishing his keys out of his pocket and unlocking his car.

A black sedan beeped from across the street. Of course he drove a black sedan, she thought, trying to hold back a smile.

 When she slid into the passenger seat, that scent – his scent – overtook all of her senses at once, and she inhaled deeply, trying not to think about it. Of course his car would smell just like him. She typed her address into her phone to keep her hands busy, placing it on the console to show him the way.

“What about you?”, she asked as he pulled out, trying to ignore the urge to sniff the leather seats.

“What about me?” he asked, his eyes on the road.

“What do you study in college to become an interviewer?” she clarified.

“Well,” he started, turning left, “I don’t think you have to do it, but I studied journalism.”

“Journalism?” she asked, raising her brows in surprise. “I thought you’d go with something media related if you wanted to become a host.”

He smiled, looking at her for a second and then looking ahead again. “Yeah, I didn’t want to be  a talk show host. Never even thought about it. I was really shy.”

She looked at him intently. The passing street lights illuminated his face in flashes, enveloping his strong features in a fluttering cool toned halo. It made him look almost divine.

“What did you want to be?” she asked.

“An investigative reporter. In print,” he answered, his smile going sad for a moment.

She couldn’t explain it, but she was suddenly overcome with an urge to hold him in her arms. She fiddled with the hem of her t-shirt instead.

“What happened?” she asked, refusing to tear her eyes away from him.

They stopped at a red light, and his face was suddenly tinted bright red. Even though they were stopped, he didn’t look at her when he answered.

“My mom was a journalist,” he said slowly, as if he were questioning whether he should be saying what he was about to say. His Adam’s apple bobbed, also reflecting the violent red shade. “She didn’t support it. Said she didn’t want me leading the same life she did. Threats, blackmailing, sleepless nights.”

“Well, she should’ve given you the right to choose if she did it herself,” Rey said, unable to hold her tongue. It sounded incredibly unfair.

Kylo turned to face her, that same sad smile still on his face. “I guess, yeah.”

The light turned green, and he sped up.

“My home became hell. We got into huge arguments. She’d send me to spend summers with my uncle. See if he could convince me being a theology professor was _soooo_ much better, I guess.”

He chuckled, but there was no humor in his voce. Her chest felt impossibly tight.

“But you ended up going, right? She ended up supporting you.”

He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road.

“No. I ended up enrolling in secret. When the acceptance letters came in…” He swallowed hard, a shadow crossing his eyes. “She wasn’t happy. We got into a three-hour long screaming match. I left. Didn’t talk to her for years.”

Rey could feel her eyes starting to burn, and tried to swallow down her tears. That sounded horrible, having parents and ending up estranged from them.

“What about your dad?”

He shook his head again. “He wasn’t around much. He was a pilot. Always an ocean away, it seemed.”

“And they never tried to contact you?” she asked, unable to control herself. The whole story just sounded so wrong.        

Kylo shrugged. “They did. Lots of phone calls. My mom would try to send me tuition money all the time. I’d just send it back. The things she said the night I left…. I just…..” His voice cracked

“It’s ok,” Rey said, instinctively putting her hand on his knee. “It makes sense. Some things are just too hurtful.”

He froze for a second, looking at her hand, and she recoiled as fast as she could when she realized what she was doing.

She cleared her throat, clasping her hands on her lap again.

“You said you _didn’t_ talk to her for years. You did get back in touch, then.”

He smiled that sad smile again. “I guess you could say that, yeah. But my dad died before I could reconnect. Heart attack.”

She felt the tears burning again, and it was getting harder to hold them back. She’d told him she’d grown up in foster care in one of their talks, but he hadn’t mentioned having lost his father. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s OK,” he said, looking at her. He looked miserable. The sadness and hurt in his eyes made her physically hurt, and she had to resist the urge to hug him again.

“But back to becoming a TV host,” he said, obviously wanting to change subjects, “ I was in college, trying to do it on my own, juggling minimum wage jobs that had nothing to do with my field, struggling to pay rent.  And then an internship came up in First Order. I was hired. It was good money, and the job was right up my alley. I helped the writing team do background checks on guests for Wilhuff Tarkin’s interview show.”

“I remember that show,” Rey said, shifting in her seat, “that guy gave me the chills.”

Kylo chuckled. “Yeah, he was creepy. I worked there for a few years, and eventually caught Snoke’s eye. He thought I had potential. When Tarkin retired, he offered me the show.”

He sighed, his Adam’s apple bobbing again. “It’s not something I’d ever thought about, being in front of the cameras. But the money was.... it was surreal. I was 27 and still neck deep in student debt. I took the job. And then I lost control of my life.”

“Because you’d try to do your job right, but he’d only send you his targets,” she said softly,

He nodded. “Yeah. I was in a very dark place for a while. There came a point when he thought I was domesticated enough, that he could start sending me his friends and I’d behave like he expected me to.”

He clenched his jaw, his knuckles going white on the steering wheel.

“Then he sent Canady,” she whispered, all the pieces falling into place.

He nodded again. “Yeah. And I couldn’t bring myself to half-ass my job. So he fired me.” 

 Rey’s hand was tingling, begging to go back to his knee, but she resisted. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. I had no idea.”

His grip on the wheel loosened a little, and he looked at her. He didn’t smile as he said “It’s ok. Thank you, Rey.”

“For what?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged. “Listening? Caring? I don’t know.”

Rey just smiled at him, looking out the window for the first time. They were fifteen minutes away from her home. She just sat in silence for a few minutes, praying that every light they approached would turn red. _That_ annoying part of her brain wanted this ride to last forever, and she didn’t want to resist it anymore.

When they eventually did stop at a red light, she spoke again.

“Is that why you created him?”

He looked at her, a confused look in his eyes. “Who?”

“You said you were shy. That you didn’t want to be on TV. Is that why you created Kylo Ren? I mean, I know it’s your name, but this character you play on the show. Arrogant. Detached. Cold. You’re not like that all the time.”

“I’m not?” he asked, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

She shook her head. “No. Not in your dressing room. Not right here, right now.”    

He smiled softly, then looked back at the road. “He’s not a character. I don’t think so. He’s a part of me that’s always been there, I think. He’s just not... not...”

“Everything you are?” she asked, smiling.

He smiled back. “Yeah. I guess.” 

He was silent for a few seconds, and then he swallowed hard. He opened his mouth twice to say something, but nothing came out. Rey didn’t want to pressure him into telling her anything, so she just stared out the window, giving him as much space as she could inside a moving car.

She wasn’t looking at him when he finally said it.

“And Kylo’s not my name.”

She turned her head slowly, sure she must have misheard him.

“Sorry?”

He looked at her, the same unreadable expression in his eyes.

“You said you know Kylo’s my name. It isn’t.” He swallowed hard again.

“My name’s Ben.”

Shock froze her for a few seconds, and, when she spoke again, her voice sounded raspy.

“Kylo’s a stage name?”

He shrugged, smiling shyly. “I guess you could say that, yeah.”

“Is Ben the one who smiles?”

He blinked a few times, knitting his brows as he looked at her. “What?”

“When you smiled at Jyn at the wedding, she asked if you’d put Kylo Ren to bed for the day. Was that what she meant? You smile when we’re alone, but never on the show. Ben smiles, Kylo doesn’t.”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely confused. “I guess, yeah. But we’re the same person, I think. Just in different contexts.”

Rey hummed in response.

“Does anyone call you Ben?”

“My friends do, yeah. And my mom, but I ask her not to.”

She smiled sympathetically, turning on her seat to face him properly. She just stared in silence for a while, until he spoke again, unmistakable anxiety in his voice,

“You can call me Ben if you want to.”

She smiled, resting the left side of her face against the seat behind her.

 “I think I will. I like Ben,” she said softly.

He smiled his first happy smile since they’d gotten into the car, opening his mouth to say something, but the GPS app beeped annoyingly, interrupting him.

Rey looked out the window again. They were in front of her building.

“There you go,” he said, smiling again. “Safe and sound.”

She smiled back, grabbing her backpack from the backseat. Their faces came painfully close when she did, but she sat back down quickly.

“Thank you for the ride. I’d be fucked if I’d tried to take the subway.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his voice much lower now. She sat there for a few seconds, just looking at him, her body refusing to move. His eyes were reflecting the streetlights behind her. They cast shadows on his face, making him look like a Caravaggio painting she’d analyzed in a paper about shadowing.  

It was probably just a trick of the light, but she could almost swear his face was moving closer every second she remained sitting there. She could see his eyes more clearly now. A few more seconds and she’d almost be able to taste their honey.

She actually felt she was leaning forward too, as slowly as a mountain would move. Maybe the bees in her stomach were attracted to his eyes too, she thought.

One more second. Two. Three.

They were definitely an inch closer than they’d been two seconds before. She had to remind herself how to breathe.

One, two, three.

One more inch.

And then a truck honked somewhere behind them, causing Rey to jump. She brought a hand to her chest, breathing heavily.

“Those assholes do that the whole fucking night! I bet they do it on purpose.” She said, looking at the general direction the sound had come from.

He cleared his throat, sitting up straight on his seat and placing both hands on the wheel. “Sleeping must be hell,” he said, his voice hoarse.

She shrugged.

“I live on the sixth floor, so not that bad. But it’s annoying, yeah.”

She looked at him for a few more seconds before she finally said.

“Thanks, Ben. Goodnight.”

He smiled at her, saying, barely above a whisper. “Goodnight, Rey.”

And then she opened the door and stepped into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to @darthsheepy for suggesting a wet shirt scene! We're all suckers for some Mr. Darcy action, aren't we? 
> 
> Comments and feedback make my day! 
> 
> Love your faces <3


	8. Scar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out Rey has a bit of a crush. Hope you enjoy! <3

 

 

If some type of cosmic force did exist out there, it hated her with a passion. That was the only thing that would explain what happened on Tuesday morning, when Rey woke up shivering, every inch of her body aching as if she’d run a marathon.

Her heart knew it before her brain could fully assess how her body was feeling.

She was ill.

Was she being punished for the thoughts she’d had about him all night?

For thinking about his hands on her waist, his fingers tangled in her hair, his mouth on her neck, her lips, her sternum, going down, down....

She probably was, because she was definitely burning up with fever.

 But she couldn’t be. She had to go to work. She had to be there at 2.

He’d be there at 2.

Doing her best to ignore the cries of protest coming from every single one of her muscles, she sat up in bed, opening a drawer on her end table and clumsily feeling for a thermometer in the dark. She blobbed back on her bed when she finally found it, mustering every last bit of energy she had left to stick it under her armpit. She coughed, feeling her throat rip, and her abdomen screamed in protest again. Perfect. This was just perfect.

When the thermometer finally beeped, she avoided looking at it for a few seconds. She closed her eyes instead, praying it would tell her that her body was lying; that she was perfectly fine and could go to work as usual, thank you very much.

It didn’t.

When she took a deep breath and looked at it, the traitorous little display read 102,4 °F.

She moaned into her pillow, letting her hand drop, the thermometer falling to the floor. This was just her luck.

She rested her head for a few seconds, and then a swarm of bees came flying into her bedroom, attacking her ears furiously. Or was it an earthquake? The buzzing was so loud, so incessant she was sure her head was going to explode. She opened one eye, ready to see the world collapsing around her, only to find her phone buzzing on her end table.

It felt like her hand was made of pure lead when she extended it, trying to pick up the phone.

When she finally managed to do it, the lit up screen told her several things. That she had fifteen missed calls. That Leia was calling her. And that it was 4 o’clock.

Fuck. When did she fall asleep? She couldn’t have slept for that long, could she?

“Leia?” she said in the dark when she finally managed to swipe up. Her voice sounded extremely hoarse, and her throat burned when she spoke.

“Rey? Thank goodness, oh, Rey!” Leia’s voice answered, sounding very close to tears.

“Leia, I’m so sorry. I.. I have a fever and I… I slept…” she mumbled, wincing in pain with every word. 

“Sweetheart, everyone was so worried! You’re sick? Do you need to go to the hospital? I can send a car….”

“No, no,” Rey shook her head instinctively, and it throbbed painfully. “I’ll be…. I’m fine. I just need….” She coughed, and her body screamed at her again.

“Sweetheart, you don’t sound fine. You sound very ill. Let me send a car to…”

“No, Leia, it’s ok. Really.” She didn’t shake her head this time. “I just need to… rest.”

Leia sighed heavily. “Ok, well, you call me if you need anything, okay? Anything. And don’t you dare show up this week. Rose and Paige have everything under control.”

“No, Leia, I’m sure I’ll be…” she tried to protest, but Leia interrupted her firmly.

“This is not a suggestion, Rey. It’s an order. You rest, ok?”

Rey sighed and mumbled, unable to formulate anything coherent.

She must have fallen asleep again, because her room was pitch-black when she woke up again. She checked her phone, wincing at the luminosity, and, sure enough, it was 6:30 p.m.

Her body ached slightly less, and she managed to drag herself into the bathroom, opening up the medicine cabinet and gathering a selection of pills in the palm of her hand. She downed them with a glass of tap water, her face contorting in pain each time she swallowed.

And then it dawned on her. 6:30 p. m.

 _Up close with Kylo Ren_ was still on. 

Shivering, she rushed back to the bedroom to get a blanket, grabbing her phone and making for the living room couch, ignoring her rioting leg muscles.  Grabbing the remote, she pressed the power button and sat down, cocooning in the old fuzzy blanket.

“And you didn’t know that could be considered collusion, Congressman? Even though you were just telling us 20 minutes ago how you graduated top of your class from Lemelisk Law School?”

His voice invaded her living room, and, if she closed her eyes, she could almost smell him on her skin.  She didn’t close them, though, because that would mean wasting precious seconds of seeing his face.

Rose had done his makeup. She could tell by the placement of the subtle contour on his cheekbones – so unmistakably Rose. She had done an amazing job: his skin looked beautiful, every single beauty mark just as she remembered them.

Rey sighed, laying down and resting her head against the armrest, pulling the blanket closer around her neck. What was going on with her?

Their talk the previous night had caused something to shift inside her. It hadn’t awoken feelings, no, but it had convinced her to stop ignoring them.

She thought back on his eyes, his lips, the streetlight casting a halo around the breathtaking profile of his face. On his voice, on the sinful smell that overtook her senses, lingering on her skin long after she’d left his car.

On the unguarded sincerity with which he had shared such obviously painful memories. On his real name.

Ben.

She rolled it around her tongue, appraising the taste as one would after taking the first bite of an unknown fruit.

 Ben.

She smiled. It tasted perfect.  

Would his lips taste as good as his name? It was all she could think about as she watched them move, cornering Congressman Motti at every turn.

What was going on? Was she crushing on him? Was that what this was?

It didn’t feel like a crush, though. It felt like vines wrapping around her entire body, squeezing her heart and her lungs, leaving her in sweet agony. The urgency, the rawness, the sheer power of it all. None of it felt like a crush.

She wasn’t fully aware of the soothing effect his voice had on her muscles until the show was over, he was gone and everything ached again. She sighed, cozying up on the couch, too exhausted to try and get back to bed. Her phone was trapped between her hip and the couch, and she retrieved it clumsily, checking the notifications. Worried messages from Rose, Paige, Finn and Poe and a voicemail from Holdo. She answered everyone, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach.

Nothing from him.

Of course there wouldn’t be, she thought, reprimanding herself mentally. He didn’t even have her number.

Was he thinking about her, though? Was he worried? Most importantly, did he feel the vines wrapping around him, too?

She closed her eyes again, biting her lower lip. Of course he didn’t. He’d said she wasn’t his type. And he hadn’t apologized for _that_.

He didn’t need to, of course. He had every right to think she was “ok, he guessed” and to only date supermodels. His wet t-shirt came to mind, and she swallowed hard, her throat burning.  

 Before she could stop herself, her fingers were opening the Google tab and typing in “Kylo Ren girlfriend.”

What was she, 15?

She sighed. No one was there to judge her but her own conscience.

The luminous search results burned into her retinas, making her heart sink. Of course.

_Kylo Ren’s new affair?_

_Coruscant’s most eligible bachelor finally taken_?

_Beauty and the Beast: could the rumors be true? Meet Kylo Ren’s alleged new girlfriend_

Dozens of headlines speculated on his relationship with a plethora of different actresses, singers and supermodels. She felt her eyes burn looking at the pictures. All tall, perfect women, with legs that seemed to stretch for miles.

She opened a few articles, but soon noticed that they’d never confirm anything. As a matter of fact, the ones she did read stated that his team had promptly denied all the rumors, and one even included a video of him shouting at a paparazzi that he didn’t even know who that was when asked if he was dating supermodel and pop sensation Oola. 

Google images seemed to corroborate that, because she couldn’t find a single picture of him with any of the women he was rumored to be involved with. In fact, he was always alone in red carpets, she noticed, zooming in on a picture from the Emmy’s where he looked good enough to eat.

Could he be single, then?

She locked the screen, extending her arm to set the phone down on the coffee table. It didn’t matter if he was single or not, because she _wasn’t his type_. Jesus, why wouldn’t her stomach just accept that and stop tossing and turning?

 

______

 

She drifted off again thinking about him, and only woke up again the following morning, her neck hurting like hell from sleeping on the couch. She felt slightly better, but definitely still feverish, as the thermometer confirmed a few minutes later.

No work again, then.

She took another antipyretic and stepped into the shower, her hair feeling gross after her sleeping marathon. She closed her eyes, the tiles feeling impossibly cold under her feverish feet, and welcomed the hot water that slowly veiled her skin.

The running water  reminded her of Monday. Of the rain. Of him soaking wet, dripping on the lobby’s slate floors.

 God, his body.

Without waiting for her brains consent, her hand travelled downwards, seeking refuge between her legs, her index finger tentatively teasing her clit. She hissed. The fever made everything more sensitive, and the mere touch sent a shock wave throughout her body. She parted her legs slightly, her left hand on the wall, the water falling on her head.

A wet t-shirt clung to his torso, every single detail vividly engraved on her brain. His abs, his nipples, his arms, the inebriating scent of his wet skin.

His smile.

His voice.

She picked up the pace, her thumb and ring finger parting her lips and allowing her forefinger and middle finger to work relentlessly on her clit, pulling, circling, pressing, flicking. She stifled a moan on her extended arm, the warm water hitting the back of her neck. She was mildly aware that her legs were quavering, so she turned around, pressing her back flat against the cold wall and hissing again. Her legs were far from the wall, her feet still under the running water, and she set them further apart for balance and access. Some of the water falling from the showerhead hit her hardened nipples, and she closed her eyes, tilting her head back and fantasizing about his tongue.

He was devouring her breasts now, panting and grinding, his covered erection teasing her clit as she wrapped her legs around his waist. His fingers dug deep into the delicate skin on her thighs, pinning her down as he sat her on the wooden counter, pressing her back against the cold mirror of his dressing room.   She gasped as he turned his attention to her neck, sucking and nibbling, probably leaving marks she couldn’t give a damn about. His warm hands slid up her legs, big enough to cover every inch of skin on their way, slowly sliding her dress up and leaving her thighs fully exposed. He growled into her collarbone, his fingers travelling to her panties and pulling them to the side.

Under the running water, she slid two fingers inside herself, urging herself to believe they were his. She let out another loud moan, feeling her walls clench to adapt and pressing the heel of her palm hard on her clit. His hands would be so, so much bigger. Make her so much fuller. She ignored the thought, moving faster and faster until she was panting, her rhythm completely incoherent.

“Fuck, Ben, fuck” she moaned, the noise drowned out by the running water. She managed to bring a hand to her left breast, pinching her nipple, pulling and twisting while her palm increased the pressure on her clit. She was so close now.

“Good girl. So wet. Come for me, baby. I wanna see you come,” he growled against her neck in her fantasy, his voice thick with desire.

She grabbed the shower curtain, desperate for support as her thighs shook violently, her core throbbing. It wasn’t long before she was engulfed by a wave of pleasure that left her suffocating, biting her lower lip so hard she could taste iron.

She slid down the cold wall, breathing heavily, her fingers still buried inside her, riding out the rest of her orgasm. She only brought her hand back to her lap after being crouched on the floor for a minute, trying to catch her breath and bouncing her head against the wall in soft thuds.

What the hell was she going to do?

 

____________

 

His voice filled her living room again that afternoon, and she cuddled up on the couch to watch him. Her body was feeling less sore and her temperature was stable at 100,4 °F, but she still felt like she’d been hit by a truck.

She thought masturbating would at least ease the pressure on her chest a little, but that proved not to be the case as soon as his face popped up on the screen.  The vines squeezed again, tighter this time,   now joined by an annoying throbbing sensation between her legs.

Perfect. It seemed like she’d just opened up Pandora’s box.

She couldn’t help but notice he looked different today. It was almost unnoticeable, but now Rey knew him well enough to notice that he sounded slightly less assertive than he usually did on the show, a little distracted, even.  She also noticed the concealing work under his eyes looked impeccable, but slightly heavier than he usually needed. Was he going through something?

Was it something he might need to vent about, but couldn’t because she was stranded home thanks to the stupid flu? The thought made her chest feel impossibly tight.

Maybe the gossip websites knew, she thought, grabbing her phone and typing in his name again. Nothing out of the ordinary popped up about Kylo Ren.

How about Ben?

She searched for “Ben Ren”, but nothing came up. Of course it didn’t, she thought, feeling stupid. That was obviously not his last name.

Had he forgotten to tell her that, or had he left the information out on purpose?

No, he’d have no reason to do that, she decided, looking at her phone screen.

What clues did she have?

He studied journalism and went to school with Jyn and Cassian. That was a start. She started looking for old pictures of the couple and found a hefty amount of material from their college years, but it was always just the two of them hugging, kissing, pulling faces and beaming at the camera.

Ok, that was a dead end. What else did she know?

His dad was a pilot, but apparently he was distant, so that didn’t seem too promising.

And his mom was a journalist……

Something clicked inside her brain. Of course! Leia had been a journalist when she was younger! And a very famous one at that, fired from _The Coruscant Times_ when she refused to put a story she’d been working on for years to rest, unveiling a huge corruption scandal involving then president Palpatine.  She’d gone on to regroup with a few allies, founding her very own independent media platform: Rebel Broadcasting System.

Maybe Leia and his mother had been friends, then, or even worked together. That would explain why Leia had hired him in spite of everything he’d done to her allies. A moral debt of some kind. It made perfect sense.

She started looking up information on young Leia, desperate to find any pictures with a woman that reminded her of Ben in any way. She’d have her son’s mouth, maybe, or his eyes, his hair, his ears. It was a long shot, but it was all she had.

There were plenty of photos of Leia with friends and colleagues in the newsroom, working and smiling. No one resembled Ben in the slightest, though, and it made her heart sink. Maybe he’d taken after his father? It was a strong possibility. But how could she track down a random pilot she knew virtually nothing about? 

Maybe she was just overthinking the whole thing and his mother had absolutely no connection to Leia, she thought, her heart sinking even more.

It was ok. She was acting crazy. She didn’t _need_ to know his last name; she was probably being childish and paranoid about his appearance _and_ she could just ask what his last name was when she went back to work, in case she wanted to torture herself, stalking him more in the future.

She even smiled a little, thinking about how ridiculous and far-fetched her idea had been, when a picture caught her eye.

It was a young Leia on the beach, looking stunning in a golden bathing suit. She was beaming, resting her head against a tall, handsome man’s chest. He had his arms wrapped around her waist, and she was holding a toddler in her arms.

Leia had a child? She didn’t know that. But, then again, Leia wasn’t her family, no matter how much she wished she were. She was her boss, and her personal life was none of Rey’s business.  Rey hadn’t even known Leia was a widow until the end of her first year on RBS, when Finn had told her that their boss’ husband had passed away two years before. Rey didn’t know much about Han, and this was her first time seeing his face. He looked as gorgeous as his wife. Her heart clenched, thinking about how painful Leia’s loss must have been, and she tapped the picture to see it more clearly.

And then her heart stopped.

The little boy in Leia’s arms was smiling, holding a tiny plastic shovel and covered in sand. His raven-black hair was blowing in the wind, thick and shiny, and his smile illuminated his tiny face, making his eyes sparkle. Honey. Sweet and golden.

She couldn’t breathe for a few seconds, trying to convince herself that her stupid crush was making her go insane. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t possibly……

And then she checked the caption.

“Leia Organa with husband Han Solo and son Ben Solo. Scarif, 1986.”  

Solo. Ben Solo.

 

___________________

 

She stared at the picture for what seemed like hours before finally putting her phone down again. His show had been over for a while, and Holdo’s face filled her screen now, telling her the evening news.

She wasn’t listening.

How could she have been so dumb? She knew Leia was a journalist. She knew her husband had passed away and had been a pilot. She knew Ben had been hired against all odds. It wasn’t rocket science.

She was lying down on the couch, facing the ceiling, her blanket gathered around her feet and shins. Everything made sense now. It answered so many questions, but it also brought up so many new ones.

How could Leia treat her own son like that? Her Leia, the Leia who treated her like a daughter. Fair, compassionate, brave Leia.

 How could she?

Rey knew it wasn’t her place to judge. Even Ben seemed to know that his mother had had his best interest in mind, trying to steer him away from a lifestyle she knew all too well, and that had almost brought about her demise. And she _had_ tried to keep in touch and help him out during his college years, which obviously showed she knew she’d made a mistake and regretted it dearly.

But then his voice came to her head, and he sounded so wounded. So, so hurt, like his mother’s words haunted him to this day. Her chest felt tight and her eyes burned, a silent tear rolling down her temple. He must have been desperate when he accepted the job at RBS. To swallow his pride and face his demons and his ghosts like that…

Now that she knew everything, her feelings had become almost unbearable. She just wanted to see him again. It was all she could think about. Holding him in her arms, running her fingers through his hair, kissing away his scars, telling him she knew how brave he’d been and that she……

“That she” what?   

 She closed her eyes, another tear escaping them.

That she didn’t know what she was feeling, but that it was strong and raw; that it took her breath away and that she couldn’t stop thinking about him?

It would be the honest thing to say.

It was almost 10 p.m. and Poe was still on when she finally turned off the TV, dragging herself to bed. Her neck was screaming it wouldn’t make it through another night on the couch.

She woke up the next day feeling a lot better – tired and sore, but much better. Her fever was all but gone, and she started to feel anxious thinking that maybe she’d be able to go to work on Friday. That maybe she’d get to see him.

Her head was still throbbing, though, and she realized she had barely eaten for 48 hours. She had absolutely no appetite, but she ate egg on toast anyway. If she could at least pretend to be 100% the following morning, then maybe Leia would let her work and she’d get a glorious hour and a half in his dressing room.

She blushed, thinking about her little fantasy, and cleared her throat.

Well, that would be awkward from now on.  

  The morning was uneventful, but Paige facetimed her around lunchtime. She was in the MUA’S lounge with Rose by her side, Finn and Poe standing right behind, struggling to show up on camera. Both hosts kept throwing each other thirsty looks that made Rey smile. Maybe she _had_ won the bet, after all.  

She assured them she was feeling a lot better, and, once they were convinced she wasn’t anywhere near death, Rose finally blurted out.

“So, who’s gonna ask her?”

Finn rolled his eyes.

“Rose, that’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not!” she protested, looking at him. “ _You’re_ not the one doing his makeup, so _you_ wouldn’t know, _would you_?”

Poe just laughed, looking amused as he eyed Finn up and down.

Rey’s heart started racing. _His makeup_? Were they talking about Ben? What the hell was going on?

“Guys, what the…” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Paige sighed, rolling her eyes too. “Rose is convinced you and Kylo are fucking.”

Rey’s cough came back in full force.

“What the fuck, Rose?” she choked out, coughing.

“Oh, c’mon Rey! Artoo from the front desk told me you left together on Monday!” Rose squealed, bouncing on her seat.

“Well, yeah, he gave me a ride home ‘cause the subway was fucking flooded! How does that mean we’re fucking, Rose?” Rey asked, still clearing her throat.

“Weeeell, there’s the fact the he was looking just like the fucking heart-eyed emoji when I walked in on Tuesday, and then he turned into poop emoji the second he saw it was me.”

Rey’s heart raced. “Was he rude to you?”

Rose waved her hands. “No, no, not rude, but he keeps asking about you like a little kid.”

Rey rubbed her eyes, sighing heavily. “Rose, don’t you think he’d have my phone number and call me directly to check on me if we were fucking?”

“Thank you!!” Finn exclaimed, raising his hands. Rose didn’t seem too convinced.

“Well, it could be a more casual thing, just during working hours. You _have_ been spending 3 hours in his dressing room every day…”

“Rose!!” Rey protested, crossing her legs on the couch. “I never spent three hours in there! You know that! It takes me longer to do his makeup ‘cause he likes to talk, OK? That’s all.”

“Well, he sure as hell doesn’t talk to me, so….” Rose insisted.

“There’s nothing going on, OK? Don’t hold your breath.” Rey said firmly.

Rose sighed. “Well, if you say so….. But just know that I totally ship it. He’s _thicc_ , man, I’m…”

“Ok, Rose, that’s enough,” Poe chimed in, smiling at the camera. “Get better, okay, Reyrey? We miss you like crazy.”

 

____________

 

 

After she ended the call, Rey couldn’t think about much else for the rest of the day. Maybe he was worried about her health, then. It didn’t mean anything, of course, but it did make her smile like a teenager. 

She waited patiently for his show, and, when he showed up on the screen, her heart skipped a beat. He was _definitely_ looking different now, his face even more tired, the concealing underneath his eyes even heavier. Could it be….

Could it be because he was worried about her?

Rey shook her head, reprimanding her brain. Of course not. Something must be going on in his personal life, and the not knowing was killing her.

Was he OK? Could she help him out?

She didn’t dare google his real name to find out, though. Some part of her felt guilty for finding out he was Leia’s son, because he had obviously chosen not to tell her and she didn’t want to be invasive. He wasn’t ready yet, and something fluttered in her chest every time she wondered if he’d be someday. Because that would mean he trusted her, felt safe and comfortable with her. That maybe…

She shook her head again, shaking off the thought and focusing on the show.  

 When it was over, she ran her fingers through her hair, feeling the oiliness on the roots. She signed, thinking that, if she wanted to work the following day, she probably had to take a shower.

It was a long and hot one, but she tried to avoid her fantasies this time, thinking that she’d actually have to face him the following day and that could get awkward pretty fast.

She stepped out of the shower forty minutes later feeling renewed, towel drying her hair as she opened the closet, looking for clean clothes. She wasn’t really feeling cold anymore, so she grabbed a pair of old and soft plaid pajama pants and a plain white cami. Then she blow dried her hair messily, just to avoid catching a cold on top of the flu, and headed to the kitchen to make herself some tea.

She was thinking about turning on the TV to watch Holdo while she waited for the water to boil when there was a knock on the door.

That was weird. She wasn’t expecting anyone.

That’s what she got for procrastinating getting a peephole installed, she thought, approaching the door slowly. This wasn’t a dangerous neighborhood, but living in her old place for so many years had taught her a thing or two about “better safe than sorry”.

She pressed her ear against the door, trying to make out any sounds that would help identify her visitor, when they knocked on the door again.

“Rey?” they called out this time.

Her heart was pounding so hard she was pretty sure he could hear it through the door.

Shock froze her mind for a few seconds, and then she hurried to unlock the door, struggling with the lock.

It was funny how her brain was completely incapable of doing him justice. None of her fantasies lived up to the real thing standing on her doorstep, even in his tired looking state. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans again, and it made her uncomfortably aware of the throbbing sensation between her legs.

“Ben?” she said, not knowing what else to say.

He looked slightly ill at ease as he ran a hand through his hair, apparently lost for words.

“Hi,” he said eventually, looking like a shy, overgrown boy.

She just looked at him for a few seconds, wondering if this was another one of _those_ dreams she’d been having, and then he spoke again.

“Rose told me you were sick, so I just wanted to…. Dunno. See if you needed anything? I brought you hot chocolate.”

She finally looked away from his face, noticing he was holding a paper cup.

“Ben, that’s really… thanks,” she stammered, taking the cup. “How did you find my apartment?”

He shrugged. “You said sixth floor, so I knocked on a random door and asked if they knew you”.

“You knocked on that door?” she asked, pointing to the apartment he’d looked at. He nodded, and she sighed.

“You might not wanna do that again. That’s Greedo. Pretty sure he’s a hitman.”

His eyes went wide when he looked at number 63 again, knitting his brows. She just chuckled, shifting from one foot to another.

“It’s cool, I’m sure he has a heart of gold. Come on in!”

She stepped sideways, gesturing with her head, but he just stood there looking at her. And then she realized he’d only brought one cup of hot chocolate.

“Wait, you didn’t get yourself hot chocolate? Were you planning on just dropping this and leaving?”

He shrugged again, textbook embarrassment shaping his handsome features. “I…. I didn’t really think it through, I guess. Just wanted to… to check on you.”

She smiled wide, trying not to focus on his lips too much. “C’mon, I’m making tea. You can have that.”

He hesitated again, and she raised an eyebrow.

“Are you really leaving me alone here? I’m ill!”

He finally smiled, and her heart pounded violently against her ribcage.

“You don’t look that ill.”

“Well, I’m better, but I still want company for tea. Come in? Please?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. 

He finally stepped forward, and she smiled even wider, closing the door behind them just as the kettle started to whistle.

“Earl grey ok? It’s all I have,” she asked apologetically, turning around as she made for the stove.

“Yeah, sure” he answered, absent mindedly looking around her apartment.

Self-consciousness washed over her all of a sudden. This apartment wasn’t nearly as bad as her previous one, but it wasn’t winning any architecture awards in the near future either. Most of her furniture had been scavenged in flea markets or on the side of the road, and absolutely nothing matched.

“It’s not much,” she shrugged, looking over her shoulder as she poured boiling water into a mug, “but at least it’s mold-free.”

He looked at her, his expression genuinely puzzled. “What are you talking about? Your furniture’s awesome. Where did you get that?” he asked, pointing at the coffee table.

Oh, that was a nice one. She really loved the carvings on the legs, and the texture on the worn-out wooden surface made it look very unique.

“Flea market,” she answered, shrugging again. “It’s where most of my stuff comes from. I’m a bit of a scavenger. And makeup’s expensive as hell.”

She looked up from the mug, turning around and smiling at him, but he didn’t smile back.

Had she said something wrong?

“Ben?” she called, setting the mug on the countertop before him. “You ok?”

“Ye… yeah. No, I’m fine. Thanks,” he stammered, reaching for the mug and taking a long sip.

“Don’t you want sugar with that? Milk?” she asked.

He shook his head, staring at her face as if he were making a huge effort to do it. “No, thanks. It’s perfect.”

She just shrugged, taking a sip from her own cup. 

“Hmm, this is good,” she hummed, sitting down on the wooden stool next to him.

He smiled. “It’s not that batshit crazy guy of yours, but it’s decent. My mom used to get me their hot chocolate every time I got ill. I still do it. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Rey felt a lump forming in her throat, her recent discovery coming to the forefront of her mind in full force. She did her best to hide it from him, smiling back and crossing her legs. “It’s delicious. Thanks!”

He just nodded, seeming incredibly interested in the tea inside his mug, only looking up when her stomach growled as loudly as it possibly could.

Oh, that was just perfect, she thought. Really sexy.

He raised an eyebrow. “Rey, when was the last time you ate?”

“Well….” She frowned, looking at her cup, “I had toast in the morning. And eggs.”

He looked shocked. “Are you kidding me? You’re ill! You have to eat!”

“I’m having hot chocolate!” she said, avoiding eye contact.

“Hot chocolate isn’t food! I’m ordering something,” he announced, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Are you eating with me?” she asked, looking up from her chocolate.

“If that’s what it takes,” he mumbled, tapping and swiping away, a determined look in his eyes. The phone screen illuminated his face, highlighting his full mouth and his strong nose. Her mouth went dry, and she took a large gulp of her drink.

“Chinese ok? I know you like it,” he asked, still looking at his screen.

Her stomach growled again, and her chest felt impossibly warm at the same time.

He remembered.

She smiled.

“Yeah, Chinese sounds great. I like the….”

“Sweet and sour pork and Chow Mein.  On it.” He said matter-of-factly.

She swallowed hard, resisting the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. Did he really pay that much attention to everything she said?

 No, he probably just had great memory, she thought, admiring him for a while and trying to wrap her head around the fact the he was there, in her apartment, flesh and bone. So close to her. So close to her bed…

“Done,” he said a few moments later, smiling at her and finally putting the phone down.

“So, was it the flu?” he asked, sipping his tea again.

She nodded. “Yeah. Woke up on Tuesday burning up with fever, apparently had everyone thinking I was dead. It dropped pretty fast, though. By Wedn…. ”

She stopped mid-sentence when she looked up to find a horrified look on his face.

“What?” she asked.

“What the fuck happened to your hand? It wasn’t injured on Monday.” He said, sounding extremely worried.

She blinked a few times, having absolutely no clue what he was talking about. Then she looked at her hand and laughed.

She’d been practicing scarring that afternoon to keep her head busy while she waited for his show, and now a huge latex gash covered the back of her hand. So that technique _did_ make it completely waterproof, she thought triumphantly.

He looked at her smiling face as if she had grown a second head, and she laughed again.

“It’s just latex!” she explained. “Here, touch it!”

He looked at her reluctantly, but extended his hand, running his fingertips softly over the faux scar. His hand was so big it touched her skin, too, and it sent shivers down her spine. She could feel her nipples perking up, and took a deep breath before pulling her hand away gently.

“It looks so realistic,” he mused, staring into her eyes. It made her stomach twist and turn. “Is it hard to do?”

“This is experimental,” she explained, running her fingers over her work herself. “so it took me a bit longer. But scarring is actually pretty easy, depending on what you need.”

He seemed to be making a huge effort to keep his eyes on her face again, and she was about to ask him if he was ok when an idea crossed her mind.

“Wanna try it?” she asked, smiling and leaning forward.

His shocked expression and the blush spreading down his neck confused her, so she just went on.

“A scar. Do you want one?”

“Oh,” he said, closing his mouth and clenching his jaw. “a… a scar?”

“Yeah!” she exclaimed, getting up and clapping her hands. “I’ll show you a super easy technique! C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

She grabbed the stool she’d been sitting on, setting it down next to the couch.

“Sit here, the lighting’s better. I’ll get my stuff,” she said, disappearing into her bedroom.

She approached the vanity, stopping to fix her hair in the mirror, and her breath caught in her throat.

Her reflection stared back at her, a mortified expression on her face, her nipples peeking through the thin fabric of her white cami.

She wasn’t wearing a bra.

She felt her cheeks burning, looking down to see if they looked that visible in real life.

Oh, yeah. They sure did.     

She was rushing towards her closet to grab a bralette when _that_ part of her brain made her stop.

Well.

She _was_ in her own home and she _did_ have the right to be comfortable, thank you very much.

He just had to keep doing his best not to stare.

 She turned around, picking up the heavy plastic container under her vanity and going back to the living room, a triumphant feeling lodged in her chest for whatever reason.

He turned around to face her as soon as she came back, still sitting on the stool by the kitchen counter.

“C’mon, over here! You’re gonna like it, I promise,” she said, setting the box down next to the coffee table and kneeling next to it, looking for a flask of rigid collodion and a pink lip liner. When she finally stood up, holding both items, he was already sitting in his new position, his eyes fixated on her. He looked away quickly when she approached and sat down on the armrest in front of him.

They were face to face, so close she could feel the heat emanating from his body. She focused on her breathing, trying to ignore the throbbing between her legs.

“Can you hold this, please?” she asked, handing him the flask. He looked down to see it, his eyes lingering a little longer on a specific spot along the way.

His voice was slightly hoarse when he asked “What’s that?”

“Rigid collodion,” she answered, taking the lid off the lip liner.

“What does it do?” he asked again, looking at her face.

He was so close she could pinpoint each shade of brown in his eyes. Her heart was racing again, but she tried to hide it with a smile.

“You’ll see,” she said with a mischievous grin, making herself comfortable on the armrest.

“So,” she said, “where do you want it?”

His eyes were fixated on hers, and she could feel his heavy breathing on her face.

“I don’t know,” he answered in a low voice, never breaking his gaze. “You’re the artist.”

She smiled, tilting her head. “I’ll do it on your face, then. I _have_ wanted to slice your face more than once.”

He smiled, and she got to see his eyes lighting up only a few inches away from hers. It was like watching fireworks from a tall building, and suddenly seeing one going off really close, the colorful sparks burning into your eyes; the sheer beauty of it blinding you for a few seconds. She made a point to memorize the image.

“Ok,” he said, and she bit her lower lip.

She grabbed his chin gently, turning his head slightly to get a better angle on his right cheek. He clenched his jaw, and she could feel it under her fingers.

“I’ll just map out the general shape. The magic happens when you apply the collodion on top”, she explained, leaning in to get a better view of what she was doing.

She started drawing a pink line in gentle strokes, starting from his jaw and moving upwards and diagonally. When she reached the apple of his cheek, she stopped. Collodion near the eye area was always a bad idea. She then leaned back to check out the shape.

There was something missing. She hummed, leaning in again and extending the line carefully to his forehead.  

When she was satisfied, she leaned back again, checking general harmony. Still not perfect. It ended too abruptly on his jaw, she thought, so she leaned in again, placing a hand on the back of his neck.

He gasped almost inaudibly, and she smiled.

“I’ll drag it down to your neck. I need you to tilt your head….” She tangled her fingers gently in his hair, positioning his head at an angle that left his neck exposed. “Just like that,” she said, starting to draw again.   

His hair felt impossibly soft around her fingers, and, with her nose a few inches away from  his neck, his scent was inebriating. She pressed her thighs together, trying to control her breathing.

“There we go,” she whispered when the shape finally seemed to match her vision.

“Collodion,” she asked, looking him in the eye again. His pupils were so dilated his irises almost looked dark brow.     

“What?” he whispered, his eyes fixated on hers.

“Collodion,” she pointed to his hand. “The thing you’re holding.”

“Oh,“ he said, still not breaking his gaze as he placed it on her hand. Their fingertips touched, and she could feel the goose bumps spreading all over her arms.

“Thanks,” she whispered, looking down to unscrew the lid.

“This is the magic part,” she said, starting to apply the transparent product over the lines she’d drawn, starting at his neck.

She worked carefully, biting her lower lip as she calculated the perfect amount of collodion on each point according to how deep the wanted the scar to be. She could feel his gaze burning her skin, but she didn’t look away from her work. When she reached his jaw, he hissed, clenching his teeth.

“You ok?” she asked, stopping for a second and looking at him.

“Yeah,” he answered, his voice thick. “Are you supposed to feel the skin pulling?”

She nodded, smiling. “Yeah. That’s what creates the texture,” she explained, getting back to work.

When she finally reached the end of the line she’d drawn, she smiled again, turning around and bending down to get a mirror from the plastic container. When she sat up straight again, his eyes looked even darker than before.

Her mouth felt like she’d just eaten a handful of salt.

She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to smile as she handed him the mirror.

“Take a look.”

He grabbed the mirror, still looking at her, and seemed reluctant when he finally tore his eyes away, staring at his reflection. His eyes went wide, a little bit of honey showing through again.

“Whoa, it’s amazing,” he said, moving his face around to see the whole picture.

She smiled proudly. “Easiest technique, amazing results. You can shade it with reds and blacks and add a little scab blood if you want a fresh wound, but the blending work is trickier if you want it to look realistic.”

He lowered the mirror, turning his head back to face her. She could feel his breath on her skin, hot and minty, and she was so focused on the shivers it sent down her spine it took her a few seconds to realize he wasn’t looking at her eyes anymore.

He was staring at her mouth.

She licked her lips instinctively, her heart pounding uncontrollably, and her eyes lowered to his mouth too.

“It’s perfect,” she saw his lips whisper. He was so close the whiff of air that escaped with the words tickled her own lips, and she gasped almost inaudibly.

Perfect. It was a good word to describe his lips, soft looking and full, close enough to taste. She just had to lean in. Just a little. So close.

She didn’t have to, though. She could see his mouth moving closer in slow motion, and she looked at his eyes again. They were fixated on hers, drawing closer, closer, so close….

KNOCK KNOCK.

“Delivery!!!” someone shouted from the door, and he leaned back, breathing heavily, his eyes those of a man snapping out of a trance. She was breathing heavily too, still looking at his face, trying to get her heart back to its normal pace.

The delivery guy knocked on the door again.

“I’ll get it. We don’t wanna scare the poor guy with that scar,” she said softly, standing up and making for the door.

She could feel his eyes following her all the way there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so sad. Alexa, play "Kiss the Girl"!  
> Don't hate me, I did tag it "slow burn". There will be smut. I promise.  
> On a lighter note, I finally created a tumblr account! Check it out if you want to make a suggestion, ask some questions or just hang. It's @heartsabers!  
> Love your faces! <3


	9. Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains depictions of sexual harassment, both verbal and physical.  
> I'm really sorry if that triggers you. It triggers me, too, and that's why this chapter took longer than usual to write. But I feel like we need to talk about this, especially in this day and age.

****

 

 

 **Ben** : Hey! I’m out front

“Shit,” Rey cursed, trying to slap on some lip balm and tie her shoes at the same time. Of course she should have been ready by now, and she would have been if she hadn’t overslept after tossing and turning for hours that night.

And maybe she wouldn’t have tossed and turned for hours if they hadn’t almost....

Was she going completely insane or had they almost kissed? Of course they had, she kept thinking at 1 a.m. She could still feel his breath on her skin, for fuck’s sake. No one got that close for no reason.

But if he’d really intended to kiss her, why hadn’t he tried it again afterwards?

No, he hadn’t tried to kiss her, her brain had firmly decided by 2 a.m. They’d been alone again after the delivery guy was gone, and they’d just had dinner, talked and laughed.

And then he’d left.

3 a.m came along, and her stomach reminded her that he _had_ insisted on picking her up and driving her to work if she really was determined to go the following day, before making a full recovery. And they had exchanged numbers, of course.

“I’ve wanted to check on you since Tuesday, but I didn’t have your number and I.... I couldn’t just show up at your door, you know”, he’d said, and so she’d taken his phone from his hand with a smile and typed in her number.

Did that mean anything? Probably not, she decided by 4 a.m, but she wouldn’t stop going back and forth until the sun was up, and now she was late.

And he was waiting for her downstairs. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” she sang as she finally found her keys, grabbing her backpack and running out the door.

He was smiling when she opened the car door.

Of course he was. He had no mercy.

“Feeling better?” he asked, still smiling.

She couldn’t do much but smile back. “Yeah. The hot chocolate did it.” 

“Told you. It always does,” he stated matter-of-factly, still looking at her. He was silent for a few seconds as he pulled out, and then he spoke again, finally looking at the road.

“I’m glad you’re back.” 

If her brain could stop overanalyzing everything he said and her heart could stop beating so fast, that’d be great.

“I’m glad I’m back too,” she said, still smiling at him. “I _am_ awesome, after all,” she added, looking out the window but not paying attention to anything outside. All she could see was his reflection on the window as his smile turned into a grin and his grin turned into a laugh.

The sky was gray and the wind was biting that day, but it felt incredibly warm inside his car. Rey could feel the warmth emanating from his body, as if what had happened the night before made her oversensitive to his proximity.  While they talked, she could almost swear she could feel little spikes in his heat, each one enveloping her in an overwhelming feeling of calm and....

Belonging? Was that what it was? She couldn’t really tell, but it felt so good every single nerve ending on her body was begging to be closer to him, touch him, drown in his warmness.

She just smiled and laughed as he told her about his week instead.

“I swear to God, I thought he was going to puke. It took everything in me not to ask Kaydel to bring the man a bucket.”

She laughed harder, resting her shoeless feet on the car dashboard and sinking into the warm seat.

“Nice socks,” he said in a faux serious voice, looking at her feet. She wiggled her toes, making the holographic stars sparkle against the baby pink background.

“I can take my socks off. You can’t take off you assholeness,” she retorted, smiling wide when he cracked up, resting the back of his head against the car seat.

When he laughed, he gripped the steering wheel tighter, which made every single muscle in his arm become painfully visible.

God, was this going to be shower time material real soon, she thought, involuntarily licking her lips.

She was so invested in a brand new fantasy involving his arms that she barely noticed when his expression changed and he looked at the backseat, his eyes going wide.

“Oh, fuck me,” he cursed, and she finally snapped out of it.

“You OK?” she asked, putting her feet back on the floor and sitting up straight.

“I left my notes at home,” he said, closing his eyes and sighing heavily. “Mind if we stop by real quick? I live in Chandrila. It’s on the way,” he asked apologetically.

“No, no, not at all. We’re on time,” she answered, smiling sympathetically. 

He smiled back, running his fingers through his hair.

His arms flexed when he did that, too. God help her.

“I bet it’s some Freudian shit, ‘cause I really don’t wanna interview this asshole,” he said, both hands back on the steering wheel.

“Worse than Motti?”

He chuckled. “Oh, yeah. Hux makes Motti look like an adorable pigeon-feeding senior citizen.”

Her blood went cold at the mention of the name. Armitage Hux was First Order’s evening news anchor, widely known for reportedly blurting out outright racist and misogynistic comments all the time. There had never been any solid evidence against him, though, until audio proof of him saying incredibly disturbing things had surfaced a few weeks before.  He’d called the audios “an obviously fake and disgusting attempt to taint his honor,” but Rey didn’t think anyone would be able to imitate his voice that well.

“He’s gross,” she said, and Ben nodded.

“Yeah. Trust me, we’ve worked together. I’d know.”

He was silent for a few seconds, sighing before he finally spoke again.

“Who’s doing his makeup? Rose?” he asked.

She nodded. “Probably, yeah. Sometimes Paige, depending on how they share the work on Finn’s guests.”

“Well, whoever it is, you tell them...” he stopped, obviously struggling to find the right words. “You tell them to be extra careful, ok? And to ignore anything he says. He’s a pig.”

Her chest tightened, and his tone sent shivers down her spine. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. I’m sure it’s gonna be fine, I just…. He’s known for being a jerk to women. Just….. just give them a heads up, okay?”

She swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. Ok. I will.”

When they finally got to Chandrila, Rey couldn’t stop staring out her window. She’d been there to work on a bride a few years before, but her memory didn’t do the neighborhood justice, with its lush, green trees and beautiful, regal looking houses. She was still in awe when they finally parked in front of a red brick apartment building, its heavy looking wooden front door adorned with some of the most beautiful iron work she’d ever seen.

“Come on up?” he asked, unlocking the doors.

She shook her head. “No, I’ll just wait here.”

He sighed, opening his door and stepping out. “ I’d really rather you didn’t. Come with me, it’s safer. I’ll be quick.”

She rolled her eyes, putting her shoes on. “It’s Chandrila, Ben, not Jakku. I’m sure I’d be safe here.”

“Better safe than sorry. C’mon, pretty socks,” he teased, walking towards the building.

She followed him, biting back a smile, unwilling to admit that she _was_ curious to see what his building looked like from the inside. Maybe even his apartment….

She shook off the images forming in her head as he entered a code in a panel right next to the door, and a loud buzz filled the air around them.

The hall looked very old and very regal at the same time, its shiny wooden floors reflecting a gorgeous crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Rey’s mouth was slightly open as they started climbing the wooden stairs, her fingers caressing the breathtaking wrought iron railing.

“I thought you lived in a mansion out in Canto Bight or something,” she finally managed to say when they got to the third floor and he stopped, grabbing his keys.

He smirked, looking at her as he unlocked the doors. “Unimpressed with my living situation?” he said, his voice filled with amusement.

She shook her head. “No, it’s beautiful. Just not what I was expecting.”

He chuckled, turning the iron knob on the wooden door. “What were you expecting?”

She shrugged. “Batcave or something?”

He laughed wholeheartedly, finally opening the door and stepping inside.

“Well you _do_ drive the batmobile, you know,” she defended herself, taking a step forward and leaning against the door frame as he entered the living room.

She intended to tease him a bit more, but her words got trapped somewhere along her throat when she got a good look at his apartment. 

She’d always expected him to live somewhere that resembled an operating room; impersonal, impeccably aseptic, all chrome and black leather. She was definitely not ready for _this._

Every square inch of the walls was covered in books, but that didn’t seem to be enough storage for him. There were piles of books on the floor, on the gorgeous but well-worn brown leather couch, on the dainty and vintage looking coffee table, on the countertop that separated the kitchen from the living room.

But it wasn’t just books. Every surface seemed to be covered in sheets of paper bursting with notes, the white barely visible underneath the elegant handwriting that snaked in black ink.   He seemed to know his way around the chaos of notes pretty well, though, as he made for the coffee table and quickly grabbed some of them from a considerably high pile, walking back towards the door.

She didn’t move when he approached her, holding the notes triumphantly, so he stopped and stared at her.

“You ok?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

“Yeah, yeah. Still groggy from the flu, I guess. Let’s?” she stammered, taking a step back towards the stairs.

He smiled, closing the door behind him as he followed her.

“Let’s.”

The rest of the drive was uneventful, an extra fifteen minutes of talking and playful banter. It was 14:10 when he finally parked inside RBS, and she felt her chest tighten when the elevator reached their floor, thinking that the whole thing had gone by way too fast and now she’d have to wait almost three hours to see him again.

He didn’t seem as disappointed as she was when he smiled at her, putting a hand in his pocket.

“Later, then?” she asked, shifting from one foot to another.

“Yeah,” she nodded, smiling back and walking towards the MUA’s lounge.

 

_________________

 

“What the flaming fuck are you doing here?” Rose asked as soon as Rey opened the door.

“Hi to you too, girls,” she said, smiling and pecking Rose on the cheek as she made for her locker.

“Leia said you were supposed to take the week off, Rey. Are you sure this is a good idea?” Paige asked, getting up from the tattered loveseat and fixing the brush belt on her waist.

“I’m 100%, really. I swear. I was going _crazy_ in that apartment,” Rey reassured them, putting her backpack away and grabbing her own belt.

“Yeah, being away from your bae for a week can do that to you. Or so I’ve heard,” Rose said in a grave tone, absentmindedly biting a cuticle.

Rey sighed heavily. “Rose, he’s _not_ my bae. There’s _nothing_ there,” she said, exasperated.

Rose just raised her brows. “Oh. I was talking about me. But if the shoe fits….”

Rey flipped her off, holding back a snort, and Paige cackled.

“Oh, fuck you two,” Rey said, her cheeks hurting from smiling, and Rose smiled back.

“You say whatever you wanna say, doesn’t change the fact Reylo’s endgame,” she said, walking towards the door, and Rey followed her, rolling her eyes again.

“ ‘Reylo’, Rose? Really? Didn’t you have anything b….”

She stopped mid-sentence as soon as she realized Paige hadn’t followed them out the door.

She looked back, only to find her friend stone-still in the middle of the room, staring at her phone with tears in her eyes.

“Paige? Paige, what’s wrong?” she asked, rushing back inside.

“C’mon, you two, we’re going to…” Rose’s head popped in, but she also stopped mid-sentence. “Paige? What….” she said, also running to her sister’s side.

When Paige looked up, the tears that had been pooling in her eyes ran down her cheeks, and she opened her mouth a few times, seemingly unable to emit any sounds.

Rey rubbed her arm gently, trying to get her to calm down.

“Paige? What happened?” she asked softly, but Paige’s eyes were fixated on Rose.

“Rosie, it’s…. it’s dad.”

Rey’s blood ran cold, and her heart clenched when Rose’s eyes filled with involuntary tears as well.

“Wh-what… what… Paige, please…. Is dad….”

Paige shook her head violently, wiping away some tears and inhaling sharply. “No, he… he had a heart attack. He’s in hospital now, but no one will tell mom anything.” Her voice cracked, and Rose covered her mouth with her hand, clearly holding back a sob.

“Go,” Rey said firmly, “you two go, I can handle everything here.”

Rose didn’t look at her, seemingly unable to hear anything, but Paige did, shaking her head. “No, Rey. Finn has three guests today, Poe has four, and Kylo…”

“Fuck that, Paige.  I can do it. I’ve been resting for a week. You two go be with your mom. _Now_.”

Paige and Rose just stood there looking at each other, and a few seconds went by before Rey spoke again, louder this time.

“I said _go_!” she exclaimed, unclasping Rose’s brush belt before her friend could protest.

Rose nodded, rushing to the lockers to get their purses as Paige put their belts away, Both hugged Rey tight before walking out the doors, and she could feel warm tears rolling down her own cheeks.

“He’ll be fine. I promise he will. You keep me posted, ok?” she whispered, holding Paige as tight as she could.

“Thank, you,” her friend choked out, grabbing Rose’s hand as they darted out the door.

Rey collapsed on a chair, sighing heavily as she wiped her own tears. It was going to be a long day.

   

 

___________

 

By the time she made it to Ben’s dressing room that afternoon, Rey’s feet were throbbing, and her wrists were starting to feel stiff. That didn’t bother her nearly as much as her friends’ radio silence.

Her body walked into the room when he said “come in”, but her head was miles away, holding her friends’ hands in a waiting room.

As soon as he saw her, he frowned.

“Rey? What’s wrong? I told you not to come! Is it the fever again?” he asked, getting up from his chair.

“No, no,” she shook her head, gesturing for him to sit down again. “It’s Paige and Rose, their dad’s in hospital. Heart attack.”

He raised his brows, clenching his jaw, and sat down again.

“Are they OK? Is he.....” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Alive? I don’t know,” she said honestly, feeling her eyes burn. “They’ve been radio silent. I hope he’s OK. Their family’s super close. If anything happened....”

She stopped and sighed, closing her eyes as she sat her case on the bench.

“He will be. He has his children with him,” she heard him say, and her heart clenched when she realized his voice was thick with pain and guilt.

“Did they call the morning team back in?” he asked, sitting up straight and clearing his throat when she turned back around.

She shook her head. “No, they’ve worked their shift today. All eight hours of it. I’m handling guests myself.”     

Ben’s eyes widened, and his lips went pale. “You’re not doing Hux, are you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Well, he’s your guest, so yes, I am,” she answered, smiling as she cleaned his skin.

“Please don’t”, he said, and his pleading eyes made her stomach do a backflip. They looked even more tempting when they were this unguarded.

She just shrugged and smiled. “I’ll be fine, ok?”

He didn’t seem too convinced as he shook his head. “Do it here. I’ll call him, tell him I need to talk before the show, and you can work on him while we talk.”

Her chest felt warm when she looked at his worried eyes, bu she just smiled, reaching for a beauty blender.

“Thanks for worrying. Really. But I can handle myself, ok? I’ve dealt with my fair share of disgusting men in my life.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” he mumbled, clenching his jaw as something dark crossed his eyes.

She shook her head. “No, I shouldn’t. No one should. But it’ll be ok. Don’t worry about me.”

“I can’t do that,” he mumbled, looking at his hands.

And there her brain was, overthinking everything again.

“Well, then just don’t think about it. I’ll be in and out of that room in fifteen minutes. I can be the fastest brush in the West when I want to,” she said with a smirk that made him throw her a half smile. It was better than nothing.

“It takes you a solid hour to do my face,” he replied, looking at her again.

“Well, it’s tough, making you handsome,” she retorted with a teasing smile.

“Ouch,” he said, still smiling but looking down again.

Her smile wavered. He couldn’t possibly think she was being serious, could he? She’d tease Finn and Poe about their looks all the time solely because no one in their right mind could say they weren’t gorgeous. And Ben.....

She felt that annoying throbbing between her legs again, but chose to ignore it.

“You know that’s a joke, right? A joke that’s only funny ‘cause you’re...”

She hesitated for a second. Should she go there? Should she just throw the dice, make it abundantly clear that she found him attractive and hope for the best?

No, she was just going to humiliate herself, her brain told her. She _wasn’t his type_.  

 _Fuck you_ , said her mouth as it finally formed the words “..... you’re as good looking as it gets.”   

He just stared at her for a few seconds, blinking in silence. When he finally spoke, his voice was raspy.

“Ham.... thanks?”

There. Good. She done fucked up.

She felt her cheeks burning, but tried to keep a straight face.

“You’re welcome. Now let me cake your face,” she said, blending in his concealer.

He didn’t talk much for the rest of the session, and she just wanted to get out of that room and go bang her head against a wall or something.

Damn her and her big mouth.

She rushed through brows and powder, almost sighing with relief when she finally set his skin and closed her case.

“See you onstage,” she said, forcing a smile as she walked by him, wishing the floor would swallow her.

She was so focused on making it out the door she only realized he was reaching for her arm when his fingers were securely wrapped around it. The contact sent a shock wave throughout her entire body.

 “Rey....” he said, his voice low and his eyes dark. “You take care, ok?”  

She tried to stabilize her breathing, turning around to face him and failing miserably when she tried to smile.

“I will,” she managed to say, shooting him another smile and finally walking away.

Her cheeks still felt warm and her chest was still heavy with embarrassment when she made it to the VIP dressing room and knocked on the door.

The worst part was that she could still feel his hand on her arm, though. She could still feel the warmth of his delicate but firm touch, and every single muscle in her body screamed for more.

For more of something he had no interest in giving her. She was trying to blink away the stinging feeling in her eyes when a cold voice said “come in!” from the other side of the door

The room felt cold. Something in the air made Rey feel sick to her stomach before she even saw him sitting there, the pale redhead with eyes that could made her skin crawl even through a TV screen.

“Hello, mr. Hux. I’ll be doing your makeup today,” she said, trying to sound professional as she opened her case.

“And your name is....” his voice said from behind her, menacingly sweet.

“Rey.” she answered curtly, sanitizing her hands.

“Are you Ren’s artist, Rey?” he asked in an amused tone, scratching his chin.

“Yes, I’m the senior makeup artist,” she answered, trying to keep her face neutral as she grabbed a makeup wipe. 

Her body screamed in protest when she tried to approach him, every single hair standing on end, but she pushed through.

He stared at her while she cleaned his skin, but not with the curious, wide eyes Ben used to stare at her with when he thought she wasn’t looking.

These were the eyes of a predator.

“Well,” he purred, never taking his eyes off her, “I can see why he’s been in a better mood lately. You’re a very pretty little thing, Rey.”

She felt the bile rising in her throat, stepping away immediately even though she wasn’t done with his skin prep. She didn’t care.

She decided to completely skip moisturizer and priming, going straight to foundation and working in complete silence.

“You say ‘thank you’ when you get a compliment,” he said in that same sweet tone that sent shivers down her spine.

“I don’t think my appearance is relevant in my workplace, mr. Hux, so I can’t feel flattered.” She answered bluntly, trying to keep her tone professional as she did the sloppiest blending job she’d ever done in her life and rushed to grab a concealer.

Her answer seemed to entice him even more, and he smiled the coldest smile she’d ever seen.

“So _that’s_ your game,” he said in a low voice, and she could taste the bile again.

“There’s no _game_ , sir. I’m just doing my job, and I’d like to be respected while I do it.”

His smile widened, and he licked his lower lip.

“Very well,” he said, but his eyes told her he had no intention of giving up.

She was halfway through concealer when he spoke again. “So, can I _respectfully_ ask you to join me when you’re done with your shift? In my apartment, maybe?”

Her heart raced, and she blended the concealer faster, not caring in the slightest about how it looked.

“No, thank you,” she said coldly.

It seemed to amuse him.

“And why not?”

“Because I’m not interested,” she replied curtly, reaching for translucent power. Just powder, this was the last step, she thought, reaching for a brush on her belt and noticing her hands were trembling.

He was still smiling that threatening smile, his cold eyes piercing into her skin, when she started powdering his T-zone.

“Such a feisty little thing,” he said, tilting his head slightly.

And then his hand was on her thigh, just above her knee.

Scream, her brain told her.

Slap him.

Bite his filthy fingers off.

Kick him in the nuts.     

But her body didn’t listen. It froze her in place instead, her heart pounding violently as he slid his hands upwards slowly.    

 “Don’t be like that,” he said, sounding  a lot like a snake hissing, “You have no idea what you’re missing out on.”

When his hand reached her hip, he squeezed, his fingers burning her skin through the fabric of her jeans.

“I can do things to that pretty little pussy Ren couldn’t even dream of,” he whispered, slowly raising his left hand towards her waist.

Fear – sheer, cold, gripping fear – finally forced her body to move, and she took two steps back, hastily grabbing her case.

Her eyes were burning. He was smiling.

She didn’t say a word as she darted to the door, but he could hear his voice calling from behind her as she left the room.

“See you onstage, Rey.”

 

__________

 

Her hands were shaking violently, spilling water everywhere while she tried to wash her face in the bathroom. Tears were running freely down her face now, and she tried to wash them away in time for the show.

She could still feel his hand on her thigh, so she punched her hip violently, trying to get it to go away.

It didn’t.

His touch was carved on her skin, inviting in an army of other phantom hands she’d fought so hard to repress all these years.

On her waist. On her arm. On her face. On the small of her back.

An army of uninvited hands that had lingered too long, burning into her skin, making their presence known for years after they were gone. Becoming part of her body against her will.

She could feel all of them now, back in full force, burning as if they were still there.

Why hadn’t she said anything? Why hadn’t she fought him?

His triumphant, amused eyes invaded her mind, and she squirmed, bringing a hand over her mouth.

Why hadn’t she fought? And why had she refused Ben’s help?

Was this all her fault?

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as she splashed more water on her face.

No. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure of seeing her like this. Of scaring her away. She was going into that studio and she was going to do her job.  

She felt like she was in a dream when she walked down the halls, unable to focus on anyone around her. Like her body wasn’t hers. Like none of this was real.

But it was very real, she thought as she walked into the studio and saw the “live” sign lit up, doing her best not to look at the men onstage. She just went backstage instead, collapsing on a chair and fiddling with the hem of her fluffy sweater as she tried to ignore their voices.

She couldn’t, though. Against her better judgement, her brain did its best to listen, because, when Ben’s voice invaded her senses, everything felt better.

The phantom hands became mere echoes, distant and unreal; her eyes would stop stinging and her throat would untighten to the point where she was able to breathe again.

But then the _other_ voice would come through, and it would be hell again.

She was in this roller coaster for what seemed like hours, enduring torture just so she could have some glorious seconds of Ben’s healing voice, when the “live” sign finally turned off.

She rushed onstage, powder in hand, squaring her shoulders as she approached the couch. Her eyes were fixated on Ben, and she refused to look at anything else.

“Hey,” he smiled at her when she approached, his smile fading as soon as he saw her face.

“Rose’s dad ok?” he asked, sounding worried.

“Dunno,” she choked out, her voice feeling rusty. “No news yet.”

He nodded, furrowing his brows as she checked his concealer.

“You tell me as soon as you hear from them, ok?” he whispered, his voice washing over her and dialing down the pain with such ease it made every cell in her body beg for more.

All she could do was nod, quickly powdering his t-zone and turning around to rush offstage again.

“Aren’t you doing me, Rey?” a cold voice said to her left, dripping with malice. She didn’t turn around.

“You don’t need it,” she said through gritted teeth, still facing Ben.

Hux let out a humorless chuckle. “Does she always play hard to get, Ren?”

Rey watched in slow motion as all color drained from Ben’s face, his eyes going impossibly dark.

“What the fuck did you just say?” he hissed, turning to face his guest. She didn’t follow his eyes.

“She keeps playing hard to get and I don’t know why. We had so much _fun_ in my dressing room, didn’t we, Rey?”   

She couldn’t hold back her tears anymore, and she could feel them trailing down her cheeks when Ben turned to face her.

The expression on his face terrified her.

“Rey, what the fuck did this piece of…” he hissed, murderous hatred dripping from every word, but she couldn’t bring herself to hear the end of the sentence. She just turned around, shaking her head, and walked away in long strides, her nails digging into the palms of her clenched hands.

“30 seconds, guys!” a voice called from behind the cameras just as Ben tried to get up and follow her, and he sat back down, a murderous look on his face.

People would talk about this interview for years. About how savage Kylo Ren had been after the first commercial break, his usual collected coolness nowhere to be seen.

About how animalistic he had looked as he’d hunched over, going off on Hux like he’d never done before.

About how he’d  poked and barked and hissed and hammered Hux with questions so viciously the redhead had eventually lost all self-control, letting a racial slur slip mid-sentence.

And, of course, about how Kylo Ren had stood up and yanked the microphone off his belt before the final credits rolled, when the show was still live, and ran offstage like his life depended on it.

Rey didn’t see any of it. As soon as she made it offstage, she stormed out of the studio and didn’t stop running until she reached the MUA’s lounge, collapsing on the loveseat  and burying her face in her hands, long sobs ripping through her chest.

She had no idea how long she’d cried, hugging her knees and punching the left side of her hip relentlessly, but exhaustion eventually claimed her, and she lay down, breathing heavily, her expression completely blank.  Her phone buzzed in her pocket a few times, but she didn’t budge until there was a knock on the door.

“Rey?” Ben’s voice called, and she couldn’t muster the strength to answer.

 _More_ , her mind kept saying. _Please, talk more,_ but she couldn’t bring her mouth to say a word.

He opened the door anyway, and she could hear his careful steps drawing closer, but she didn’t look.

She didn’t see his livid expression until he crouched in front of her, his hands clenched on his lap.  

“Rey, what did he do?” he asked, and she felt the tears burning again.

No, that’s not what she wanted him to talk about. She wanted him to tell her about the weather, sing her a song, read her a cake recipe. Anything that didn’t remind her of uninvited hands.

She just shook her head, finally managing to choke out “I don’t want to talk about it.”

He wasn’t giving up. “What did he say? Did he lay a finger on you?”

His voice was shaking with loathing, his hand going white.

So far away from her.

No, that’s not what she wanted to talk about. That’s not what she needed. She needed his soothing voice in her ear and his hands up in her hair, his arms engulfing her in wooden scented warmth.  She needed to feel him just like you’d need toothpaste after being sick in the middle of the night, to wash away the acrid taste and make you feel normal long enough to fall back asleep.

She needed him.

And there he was, crouching so far away, keeping his distance as though she was a wounded animal. As though she was contagious.

As though she was broken.

She remained silent, closing her eyes and praying sleep would claim her. He’d always touch her in her dreams. That’s what she needed, to drift off and travel to a reality where he’d be willing to touch her; where he wouldn’t reiterate his lack of interest in her by standing five feet away.

“You have to report him, Rey. To Leia. I’ll go with you. You need to…”

“DON’T YOU FUCKING TELL ME WHAT I NEED TO DO,” her mouth bellowed, not asking her brain for permission.

 _No, no, no_ , her brain screamed.  _Tell him you need him. Ask him to hold you. Ask him to stay._

But her mouth was doing its own thing, completely out of control. She sat up, her hands shaking, and his face went pale.

“When it happens to you, YOU FUCKING DECIDE WHAT YOU NEED TO DO,” she howled, feeling her heart break.

“When a grimy hand squeezes YOUR ASS and brands your skin FOREVER, YOU DECIDED WHAT YOU FUCKING NEED TO DO.”

_No, stop that. Stop it. Tell him, Just tell him._

“Until then you leave me the fuck alone,” she hissed, and his eyes went impossibly bright.

He just stared at her for a few seconds, eventually standing up, but not walking away.

“Leave me alone. Just GO AWAY,” she screamed, fresh tears escaping her eyes again.

He swallowed hard, nodding.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. You just… if you need me, you call me, ok?” he murmured softly, putting his hands in his pockets and making for the door.

_No, no, no, no. Don’t let him go. We need him. Don’t let him walk away._

Her brain was begging, but her mouth did nothing to stop him.

The rest of her day went by in a blur. She wouldn’t be able to tell you what she did with Holdo’s makeup or who Poe’s guests were. She felt like she was in a fish tank, her ears ringing oddly, the world around her unfolding in a weird haze.

People thankfully associated her state to her illness and her concern for Rose and Paige, so they left her alone most of the time, with a few reassuring hugs and “it’s going to be fine”s here and there.

She was still feeling numb on the subway ride home, her head rested against the cold window as the train rattled under her feet. She didn’t want to think. Thinking led to remembering, and remembering led to tears.

Not thinking took up so much space in her head she didn’t realize the train had been on the same station for five minutes, the doors wide open.

Great. This was just great. The train had malfunctioned, and now she was trapped in the wrong station.

Like she’d been trapped in that dressing room.

Like the words she needed Ben to hear got trapped in her throat.

Ben.

She finally thought about him, and tears were running freely down her face again. Why had she said those things?

She thought about the devastated look he had in his eyes when he walked away, and a sob ripped through her chest. She bit her fist, trying to muffle the sound.

He’d tried to protect her over and over again, tried to warn her. He’d come to her and offered to face his mother by her side if she needed his support. He’d been there for her, and she’d still acted like that.

She’d been horrible. Nasty. Mean. Hurtful.

But she’d been so wounded.

She was fighting for oxygen through sobs, trying to breathe, when a thin voice spoke right next to her.

“You haven’t come for tea this week, young Rey”.

She turned her head only to find Yoda, tiny and ancient, standing in the middle of the car.  

“I…. I’ve been unwell,” she choked out, trying to pull herself together and hastily wiping her tears.

“Oh, that you have,” he said gravely, nodding. “Quite unwell. And crying you are,” he added matter-of-factly, tapping his cane on the floor.

“I’m….. I’m stuck in the wrong station,” she said, unable to bring herself to make any sense.

“Oh, yes. The wrong station. But you know what they say,” he said, scratching his chin and walking slowly towards the open doors. “One man’s wrong station, another man’s right station is.”

He chuckled, only turning around to look at her when he stepped out the door. “Or woman’s,” he added, walking away.

She followed him with her eyes through the window, watching him fade from view as he crossed the platform, and then something caught her eye. 

The sign on the platform wall read “Chandrila”.

Her heart stopped for a second, and then went galloping in her chest.

Could she?

Should she?

She couldn’t just show up at his place at this hour, her brain told her, trying to talk her out of it. She could call him in the morning and apologize. Or do it in person on Monday. She couldn’t just…..

But her legs weren’t listening. They took her out of the train and sprinted through the platform, running up the stairs two steps at a time. The doors closed behind her, and she could hear the train leave the station before she’d even reached the stairs.

She didn’t care. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tip: I may or may not be a sucker for angsty kisses. Just sayin'.
> 
> Comments and feedback make my day! 
> 
> Love your faces <3


	10. Waves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is the slow burn ever coming to an end? Will I ever stop cockblocking these two?  
> We'll see.  
> Hope you enjoy!

 

 

Her lungs were on fire when she finally reached his building. Every panting breath she drew in was agony, the cold night air biting her mouth, throat, lungs, freezing her very core.  She rested her forehead against the door, breathing heavily, the cold metal burning her forehead too.

She couldn’t think about what she was doing. Thinking about it would make her turn right back around, get in the subway and go home.

It was probably the right thing to do.

But it wasn’t what she wanted to do.

She turned her head, still leaning against the door, and looked at the numbers on the call panel for a few seconds. How stalkerish was it that she’d been staring at his hands with such ardor she’d memorized the code he’d typed in?

And how stalkerish was it that their car ride together was embedded so deeply in her brain she’d been able to find his street in the dark, running through the cold streets of  an unfamiliar neighborhood?

Very stalkerish, probably.

That’s why she couldn’t think about it, she decided, her trembling fingers pressing numbers she shouldn’t know and producing a loud buzzing sound.

She didn’t give herself the time to appreciate how warm it felt inside the hall or to admire the beautiful chandelier that shone even brighter at night, refracting light in a million different directions. She just ran up the stairs, two steps at a time again, using the railing to propel her like a cross-country skier trying to push through the last few feet of a particularly hard trail.

She didn’t stop when she reached the landing on the third floor, either, but rather used the momentum her body had built up to keep moving towards this door, only coming to a halt when her body hit hard wood. Still panting, she knocked more forcefully than she probably should at this hour, slamming her clenched fist against the last barrier that stood between them.

And then she waited.

No one came.

She listened intently for any signs of life. Footsteps, clinking glasses, voices, pages turning, paper rustling.

Silence.

She knocked again, more violently this time, desperation drawing strength from somewhere deep in her core and sending it to her hands.

Still nothing.

He wasn’t there.

Or maybe he was sleeping.

Or maybe he was with someone. In the bedroom.

The adrenaline rush started to wear off, shame and humiliation slowly claiming its place.

This was ridiculous. Completely insane. Had she lost her mind?

An instinct to flee finally took over her body, and she took three steps back, breathing heavily.

What was she doing here?

She leaned against the railing and caught her breath for a few seconds, finally turning around and beginning to make her descent.

She was three steps down when the door opened behind her.

“Rey?” his voice called, and she froze midstep, refusing to look back.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid._  

She didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to see the long-legged model wrapped in fancy Egyptian cotton sheets, butt naked underneath, peeking from behind him and laughing at the depressing, desperate no one that thought she ever stood a chance.

“Rey? Wh-what are you....”

 _Doing here?_ Oh, she wished she knew the answer herself.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes glued to the floor, her hand still on the railing. “It was a stupid idea.”

She heard soft footsteps behind her, and she knew he was drawing closer when she sensed the heat emanating from his body.

“No, it wasn’t,” he said softly. “Come in. Please.”

Oh, yeah, that would be precious. Rey, Ben and Ms. Whatsherface, lounging like a big, happy family. 

She finally turned to face him, her heart hammering against her ribcage, and then time stopped.

He was wearing gray sweatpants and a black “Coruscant University” t-shirt that looked like it had seen better days. His arms were hanging limply at his side, his right hand holding a glass of whiskey so loosely she was sure it might shatter at any second. And there was no one behind him.

He walked closer, taking careful steps, and, when his face was illuminated by the lamp on the ceiling, she could see his eyes were red rimmed.

“No, I.... I’ll just go. I’m... I’m sorry.”

She meant to turn around and keep moving, but he took another step forward, drawing dangerously close.

“Rey, just... I want to... Did you need something?” His lips looked even fuller than usual, and his eyes were glistening under the light.

She stared at him, feeling her eyes burn as well. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. But I could have done that on Monday. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

He didn’t move and neither did she, but his expression shifted from misery to confusion.

“What are you sorry for?” he murmured, furrowing his brows.

He couldn’t possibly be serious. She swallowed hard.

“For being a disgusting human being. T-...talking to you like that when you were just trying to help.”

Her voice was raspy now, thick with the tears she was fighting hard to keep her eyes from shedding.

He furrowed his brows even further, setting his glass on the flat portion of the railing that stood right beside him.

“What are you... I’m the one who’s supposed to apologize, Rey. I...  invaded your space, pushed you when you didn’t want to talk, I....”

“Don’t do that. Please don’t do that,” she pleaded, unable to hold her tears any longer. Anger boiled in her stomach in spite of her best efforts to keep it at bay.

He was still keeping a safe distance, treating her like a wounded animal, and now he was refusing to hold her accountable for what she’d done.

And she needed to be held accountable.

She needed him to yell at her, tell her she’d hurt him, tell her he didn’t want to see her.

She needed it to move on.

“Don’t do what?” he asked in a soft voice.

“Don’t.... don’t fucking ‘Ben’ me, ok? I need you to ‘Kylo’ me.”

He just stared at her for a few seconds, sheer confusion in his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I need you... I need you to....”

Touch me. Hold me. Kiss me. Tell me we’ll be ok.

“Lash out! Go off on me, call me a bitch, tell me I was _horrible._ ”

He shook his head, taking a step back with a perplexed look in his eyes.

“What the fuck, Rey? I’m not saying any of that.”

Oh, but the step back was too much for her.

“Just do it GODDAMNIT,” she snapped, taking two steps towards him, coming dangerously close to his bewildered eyes.

Why wouldn’t he touch her like she needed him to? Why would he keep his distance like that? Did she disgust him that much?

Her entire body ached for proximity, so it claimed the only kind of contact it could have.

She splayed her hands on his broad chest, trembling fingers against solid muscle, and pushed him.

He didn’t budge.

“ _Do it!”_ she glowered, pushing him again, harder this time. “Come at me, throw it in my face, tell me to get the fuck out of here!”

Tears were burning her cheeks now, and she started flailing her fists against his chest feebly, unable to muster any strength.

“Just... please... I need it... I need....”

He put his hands on her forearms gently, holding them in place, not having to make any visible effort to stop her wan punching.

“You know I can’t do that,” he whispered, his eyes mere inches away from hers. She could feel his breath on her skin again, and it took her back to her apartment, her living room, to bantering over hot chocolate and laughing over sweet and sour pork.  

“Why not?” she whispered, not even trying to fight his grip, reveling in his touch. “You do it all the time, Ben. I need you to...”

She never finished that sentence, because his lips were on hers before she could.

She wished she could say she saw his lips drawing closer in slow motion. That she got to see every single color in his eyes getting clearer by the second, like headlights rounding the corner and breaking the darkness. That she got to feel his breath getting hotter and hotter against her skin, announcing the arrival of his lips.

She couldn’t.

One second she was looking at him, begging, and the next thing she knew his mouth was on hers.

She also wished she could say she kissed him back.

She didn’t.

It was a dream. It was obviously a dream, and, if she moved, she might wake up, opening her eyes into the darkness of her own room, her lips still tingling from a kiss that never happened.  So she just stood still, enjoying every second of his touch, praying that whatever energy ruled the universe would grant her just a few more seconds of this. 

This dream felt so much better than any of her previous ones, though. She didn’t know what he tasted like, what the texture of his lips would feel like, what the temperature of his skin would do to hers, so her brain would usually fill in the gaps randomly. But it had never made up anything this divine; the heavenlyl mixture of mint and whiskey, the warm velvet wrapped around her bottom lip, caressing it gently. _One more second, please,_ she begged. Just a little....

She stood as still as she could, and then it was over.

She wasn’t in her bed, though, but in front of him, staring into his eyes again. It took her a few seconds to realize his hands weren’t on her forearms anymore. They felt incredibly cold.

Why was her dream taking this weird turn? Why did he look mortified? Why was he stepping backwards?

His lips were saying something, but her ears were processing his voice in the oddest of ways, making him sound like a radio tuning in and out.

“...... so sorry......”

“........ not when you’re.......”

“....... didn’t mean to.......”

“......... Rey..........”

No, no, no. The dream was still on, she hadn’t woken up yet and he was wasting precious moments of it. What was he thinking?

Desperation took over her hands, and she splayed them over his chest again, digging her fingers into his shirt and yanking him towards her.

And there it was again, a wave of mint, whiskey and velvet washing over her.

She couldn’t resist the urge to move this time, even if it meant she’d wake up. It felt so good, so right that she was sure her brain would never be able to come up with this specific combination again, so she finally parted her lips, determined to enjoy this to the fullest. When she did, his tongue came crashing against hers like a tidal wave crashing on the shore, powerful, violent and beautiful, sweeping everything that stood in its way.

He was a wave. No, he was the sea itself, and she was drowning, her lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, blissfully embracing this beautiful death. Just like the ocean, he wrapped himself around her, and then he was everywhere. She could feel his warm hand on her spine, on the small of her back, on her thigh, shifting slowly but powerfully like a late afternoon tide.

His other hand was anchored to the back of her head, snaking through her hair, so big that his thumb still managed to caress her cheek gently while his other fingers scraped her scalp, sending shivers down her spine.

She scraped his bottom lip with her teeth, begging him to drag her deeper, and he tilted his head, deepening the kiss with a guttural moan that escaped his throat, resonating with her tongue.   

She was only mildly aware that he’d started moving backwards, taking her with him much like the currents will if you decide to float on the ocean, contemplating the sky. She didn’t even pay much attention when he closed the door behind them with his foot, refusing to break the kiss, because her mind had been invaded by a thought that was far more important.

This wasn’t a dream.

It couldn’t be, because her brain wasn’t nearly competent enough to make this up. Everything was too perfect – his taste, his touch, his unruly breathing, his hand travelling from her back to her waist, big enough for his thumb to stroke the underside of her breast.  His fingers digging deep into her skin, exorcising any phantom hands that had ever dared haunt her.

Her realization must have changed something in her kissing, because all of a sudden he retreated, leaving her to wash up on the shore, panting and disheveled, the oxygen burning her lungs.

His hands never left her hair or her waist, though. He was still close enough to taste, his heavy breathing tickling her skin, his eyes darker than ever.

“Are you sure you….” he started to whisper, but there was no way in hell she was going to let him go there.

“Oh, shut up,” she moaned, sliding her hands from his chest to his neck, knitting her fingers behind his head and reclaiming his lips.

She wrapped her arms around his neck slowly, and he growled again, biting her lower lip. With their bodies repositioned, she could feel his erection pressing against her abdomen, and the feeling immediately ignited every single cell in her body.

This was real. He wanted her. He _desired_ her.

The thought made her moan against his lips, and he seemed to go even harder, grabbing her by the waist with both hands and yanking her closer, pressing their hips together. She moaned again, grinding against his erection, and he slid his hands slowly down to her ass, squeezing and hoisting her upwards. She took the hint, using his shoulders for support as she hopped up and wrapped her legs around his waist.

His erection was now deliciously pressed against her own throbbing core, and she could feel him move, only stopping when they hit something solid and he sat her down on it. The telltale sound of screeching leather and the narrowness under butt told her it was the backrest of the couch.

She spread her legs wider, allowing him to come closer and press his own legs against the backrest. His hands snaked from her thighs to her waist again, grabbing the hem of her sweater and pulling it upwards. She broke the kiss, lifting her arms eagerly as he removed her top, taking the cami she was wearing underneath along with it.

Everything was dark for a second, and then he was there again, panting and ogling her like a famished man before a feast. His raven-black hair was all over the place, hopelessly tangled by her fingers, and his lips were already swollen, reddened and looking like they were definitely going to bruise. 

His eyes travelled from her face down to the exposed skin on her chest and belly, and his hands followed them, his worshiping fingers caressing every inch. She smiled, still panting, placing both hands on the couch to keep her balance on the narrow backrest.

“I’m wearing a bra today.”

He blinked, and it took him a few seconds to finally look back at her face, his swollen lips slightly parted.

“You knew you weren’t wearing a bra?”

Her smile turned into a grin, and she scrunched up her nose.

“You knew you weren’t wearing a bra,” he repeated, making it an assertion this time. His hands wrapped around her waist again, and he yanked her towards him, burying his face in her neck.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” he growled, sucking on the sensitive skin under her ear as he unclasped her bra and slid the straps down her arms. She threaded her fingers through his hair, whimpering when he sucked harder, most definitely leaving a bruise.

“How?” she managed to breathe, tilting her head to grant him full access to her neck.

“By coming on this couch,” he answered, his voice rumbling on her skin and producing shock waves between her legs.

These panties were definitely going straight in the trash can.

“Now, that sounds a bit disproportionate,” she panted, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it up as well.

He had to assist her when she reached his shoulders – _cause he was so fucking tall_ , she thought – and then his torso was fully exposed, even more visible than it had been during Wet Shirt Gate.

She ran her fingers over his broad chest and chiseled abs, fully aware that she was drooling like a teenager and not giving a single shit.

“How about you make me come on this couch instead?” she whispered, still not looking away from his torso.

He let out a throaty chuckle, attacking her neck again and groaning against her skin.

“Yeah, ok. I’ll meet you halfway,” 

His open mouth kiss on her jugular turned into a gloriously painful bite, and she whimpered again, digging her nails into his scalp.

“I can be _magnanimous_ too,” he moaned, and it was her turn to chuckle, biting her lower lip.

He turned his attention to her mouth again, their tongues dancing in a furious ballet, and she snaked her hand down his chest and belly, only stopping when she reached his erection. He hissed against her lips when she started to rub it through his sweatpants, and his fingers started to work on unbuttoning her jeans and yanking them down.

He wrapped one arm around her waist, keeping his other hand up in her hair as he lifted her effortlessly, allowing her to yank her pants down her hips and take off her shoes using her feet.

When she was done, he sat her down again, and she kicked her legs to complete the undressing process. She kicked his legs by accident a few times, too, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. All of the blood in his body seemed to be going to his cock, and it was now rock solid under Rey’s fingers.

She traced her finger on the skin right above the band of his pants, fiddling with the elastic, just as his own fingers started to venture between her legs, gently rubbing her clit over the thin fabric of her underwear. They were so warm she immediately spasmed, digging her fingers into his arms for support and pulling his pants down with her free hand.

She managed to lower it just enough to expose his boxers before he pulled down her panties, exposing her to the cool air and to his exploring fingers.

“Fuck, Ben,” she moaned against his lips, and he took it as permission to move on, caressing the sensitive skin on either side of her clit with his forefinger and his middle finger in a way that sent her spiraling out of control.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, trailing kisses down her neck and starting to move his fingers in tight circles, her clit trapped between them.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chanted, sliding her hand down his boxers, desperate for something to hold on to. When her hand wrapped around his shaft, he stopped moving his fingers for a second, burying his head in her shoulder and growling into her collarbone.

She bit her lower lip, smiling triumphantly and starting to move her hand up and down, occasionally rubbing her thumb over the tip, the wet clicking sound drowned only by his muffled curses.

“You’re……perfect,” he moaned into her collarbone, planting sloppy open mouth kisses on her neck as he resumed his work between her legs.

She instinctively started to jerk him off faster when he slowly slid a finger inside her. He abandoned his post on her neck as he did so, pressing his forehead against hers and looking into her eyes as he gently removed her hand from his boxers.

“I won’t last long if you keep that up,” he whispered, bringing her hand to his mouth and kissing it as he slid a second finger inside her, gently rubbing her clit with his thumb.

He let go of her hand, threading his fingers through her hair and tugging just enough for her to feel it.

“But you,” he kept their foreheads touching, planting a featherlight kiss on her parted lips, “you can come on my hand.”

He picked up his pace as he said it, feeling for a specific spot inside her with the tips of his fingers and working on her clit at the same time.

She was trying hard to keep her moans from morphing into screams, panting heavily and biting her lower lip to hard she could taste iron. Her nails were probably about to draw blood from his arm at this point, but he didn’t seem to care, so neither did she.   

He was pushing her slowly up a hill now, and it got harder and harder to breathe with each step that she took. She could feel the pressure building up in her core the closer she got to the summit, and tried to throw her head back to repress a scream, but he held her in place, thick locks of hair securely wrapped around his fingers.

“You look at me,” he murmured, pecking her on the lips again, and she captured his lower lip with her teeth, making him hiss.

She was babbling incoherently now, his fingers going faster and his thumb increasing the pressure on her clit with each nonsensical whimper that escaped her mouth. She could feel her walls clenching and he could probably feel them too, because he claimed her lips in a deep kiss, whispering against her mouth.

“Good girl.”

His voice was the last push she needed. He broke the kiss, looking into her eyes just as she started free-falling, her entire body spasming uncontrollably, a wail that didn’t even sound like her voice escaping her lips.

He smiled, stroking her scalp tenderly as she buried her face in his shoulder and continuing to move his fingers until the last spasm had gone through her body.

She just stood there lazily for a few seconds that felt like hours, inhaling his scent deeply as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered into her hair, tracing his fingers softly up and down her spine.

She just hummed into his collarbone, unable to formulate anything coherent.

This was so, so much better than her fantasies.

When she started feeling her limbs again, she finally lifted her head, looking him in the eyes.

“Thought I wasn’t you type,” she drawled, her eyelids feeling heavy.

He smiled that beautiful smile, caressing her cheek.

“My type _is_ you,”

“That’s not cheesy at all,” she teased, smiling back and freeing one arm from the knot around his neck, tracing her fingers down his chest.

He chuckled, kissing her nose. “Shut up.”

“No, you shut up,” she murmured, kissing his lips as her fingers traveled further down.

“And my type is you too,” she whispered when her fingers reached the band on his boxers, caressing the skin there.

He gasped, splaying one hand on her back and holding her face with the other.

“Got a condom?” he asked, kissing her gently again.

She furrowed her brows. “Ham….No? Wasn’t exactly planning on this. Do you?”

He shook his head, biting his lower lip. “No. Haven’t done this in a while.”

“Oh,” she mouthed, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through her chest. The tabloids _had_ been lying, then. Good.

“Well, I’m…” she stuttered. “I’m clean. And on the pill.”

His expression was unreadable.

“I’m clean too. But are you sure? I can wait.”

She smiled, sliding his boxers down and planting light kisses on his lips.

“If I got a dollar every time you asked me if I’m sure, I’d be filthy rich,”   

He smiled, pulling her hips closer to him and kicking off his boxers.

“We can get you a jar,” he whispered, kissing her jaw and pressing his erection against her clit, coating the tip in her fluids.

She hummed softly, biting her lower lip.

“I’d like that.”

“Good,” he mumbled, starting to move his hips forward slowly.

As he sheathed himself in her, a deep rumbling moan coming from his chest, she could feel every inch of his progress in the form of a sharp stinging sensation. She held on tighter to his neck, humming too, and he stopped when he was completely sheathed, breathing heavily.  

His eyes were blazing so intensely they might light her up at any second, she thought feebly, panting heavily too.

“You ok?” he asked, tucking a lock of hair away from her face.

“Y-yeah, just… just give me a second. I-It’s…. so big,” she breathed, resting her forehead against his.

He massaged her scalp, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “Sure. You tell me when,”

She was only mildly aware that his left hand had left her back, and was now travelling between ther bodies, drawing lazy circles around her navel. And then she was hyper aware of it when it made its way downwards, starting to flick her clit softly.

“Oh,” she moaned, parting her lips, and he took the opportunity to kiss her, his tongue exploring every inch of her entreating mouth as his fingers worked on rekindling the fire inside her core.

It didn’t take too long.

“D-do it,” she whispered against his mouth, but he didn’t move, only moving his fingers faster.

“Do what?” he murmured, nibbling her lower lip.

“Fuck me,” she moaned, and he let out the deepest, most arousing noise she’d ever heard, starting to move painfully slowly.

Their kiss soon became sloppy, and she had no idea what she was doing with her tongue anymore. He held her face more firmly, his fingers tugging her hair again, and she whimpered, leaning into his touch.

“You feel so much better than I dreamed,” he growled, moving faster every time she moaned.

She couldn’t bring herself to try to understand what he meant, so she just moaned louder, taking his thumb into her mouth and sucking on it.

He picked up the pace, applying more pressure on her clit with each thrust, an obscene slapping sound filling the room.

“Holy fuck Rey,” he whimpered into her neck, licking and nibbling, his fingers feeling tighter and tighter in the hair.

She could feel the pressure building up in her core again, growing and swelling until she lost control of her reactions, digging her teeth into his thumb to muffle a scream.

He sucked on her neck, lowering the hand that rested on her face down to her chest and stroking her nipple, eventually pinching it between his thumb and his forefinger.

“Fuck, I’m gonna…. I have to….” she whined, and he lifted his head, staring into her eyes again. The feverish, anguished look on his face did it, and she was pushed over the edge again, chanting his name over and over again like a hymn.

He snarled as her walls clenched around him, his rhythm going completely hectic as she went limp in his arms. With a final guttural rumble, he finally found release inside her, probably not realizing how tight he was squeezing the boob he was cupping.

She didn’t mind it at all.

They just stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, breathing heavily, exhaustion quickly weighing on their eyelids. He stayed inside her until he was soft enough to be expelled naturally, and then he kissed her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

She hummed, kissing him back and holding his face with both hands, a delicious numbness spreading through her entire body.

“Can you walk?” he mumbled against her lips, and she shook her head.

“Can’t feel my legs.”

“Ok, hold on,” he said, tightening his grip on her waist and hoisting her up. She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, closing her eyes and resting her head on his shoulder as they moved.

She only opened them again when her body was laid down on an incredibly soft surface, and her eyes met his gaze as he eyed her naked body up and down.

“Stop staring. It’s rude,” she mumbled, not a hint of annoyance in her voice or in her smile.

“Never,” he smiled back, lying down behind her and planting soft kisses on her shoulder blades.

“You’re still wearing your pretty socks,” he murmured against her skin, making her chuckle.

“I hate you,”

“I know,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist again and pulling a blanket over them.

She lay in silence for a few moments, just enjoying the sound of his breathing, and then tried to turn around to kiss him. To no avail.

“I can’t move,” she whined, and he smiled, turning her around and pressing his chest against hers.

“That’s what you get for the little braless stunt you pulled yesterday. I almost broke my dick when I got home.”

She smiled, stroking his hair away from his face.

“And those are the words of a gentleman,” she baited, and he laughed, running his fingers up and down her spine.

“Never said I was a gentleman,” he whispered, nuzzling her nose, and she closed her eyes again, reveling in his warmth and resting her head against his chest like a shipwreck survivor drifting on a raft.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that didn't take us long at all! XD  
> Hope this makes up for the copious amount of angst in chapter 9.  
> Comments and feedback are life! Love your faces <3


	11. Mine

 

 

The room was still in pitch-black darkness when Rey opened her eyes, and sight deprivation made her hyperaware of her other senses. Especially smell. _His_ smell.

His scent was everywhere – on the pillowcase, on the sheets, on the blanket that caressed her naked skin, _on her naked skin_. It enveloped her completely, an overwhelming reminder that, yes, it had been real. She smiled into the pillow, inhaling and exhaling slowly, her heart pounding violently as she replayed every single detail in her head.

Now, that went 0 to 100 _real_  quick. She couldn’t really tell what she was expecting showing up unannounced at that hour, because she really hadn’t thought it through. Forgiveness? Closure, maybe? Definitely not… _that_.

As she got used to the smell, her other senses gradually kicked in. There was touch, obviously – the glorious ache between her legs, the throbbing on her neck and her breasts, the numbness all over her body. Taste, because she could still taste him on her tongue in all his minty glory. And hearing.

Because she couldn’t hear his breathing.

She opened her eyes again, sitting up in bed and feeling for him. The bed was warm on his side, but he was definitely not there. He’d be hard to miss, she thought, thinking back on his ridiculously broad chest and swallowing hard. Maybe he’d gone to the bathroom?

She blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. After a few moments, she realized it wasn’t actually that dark – the room was submerged in a particular shade of gray that announced nighttime was about to dissipate, even though the sun was still nowhere to be seen.

She could see the outline of an armchair in the corner, more bookshelves all over the walls – _obviously_ , she sighed -   and a half-open door to her left. Wrapping herself up in the blanket he’d covered them with to protect her skin from the cool night air, she stepped carefully towards the door, pushing it with a creaking sound. It turned out to be, in fact, the bathroom, but he wasn’t there either.

She didn’t turn on the light, not wanting to deal with the brightness, but decided to pee anyway – God knows she should have done that before falling asleep in his arms like a sexually obtuse teenager.  Washing her hands with the blanket wrapped around her arms turned out to be challenging, but she finally managed to do it, stepping back into the bedroom. She could see another door now, right next to the armchair, but that one was closed.

The wooden floor felt cold under her feet. She must have lost her _pretty socks_ while she was sleeping, she thought, unable to repress a smile as she made for the closed door and turned the knob carefully. Light invaded the room as she did so, and she blinked as she stepped out, trying to get her eyes to adjust. She was in a corridor, and it eventually became clear the light was coming from a doorway on the right side of the wall, to her left, so she made for it.

When her pupils started to accept the light, she realized it was coming from a lamp in the corner of the living room. It tinted the room a warm shade of yellow, and cast shadows that made the face of the man curled up on the couch even more remarkable.

He didn’t notice her presence right away, so she just leaned against the doorframe, admiring him. He was dressed in his sweatpants and mangy t-shirt again, she noticed disappointedly, and a thick lock of hair was falling over his face, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were fixated on the book in his hands, a thick, old-looking leather bound volume, and he’d lick his lips every once in a while, furrowing his brows in concentration.

He looked so breathtaking it took Rey a few moments to realize he didn’t look happy. The tension around his mouth didn’t look anything like the beautiful smiles he’d smiled at her only a few hours before, and the wrinkles on his forehead denounced more than just concentration.

Something was wrong.

Rey didn’t have the time to figure out what it was, though, because it didn’t take him long to acknowledge her presence, raising his eyes from the book with a genuinely startled jerk of his head.

“Hi,” she soughed, her voice still heavy with sleep. He swallowed hard.

“Hi. Wh… are you going somewhere?”

It took everything in her not to smile or roll her eyes.

“Yeah. Home,” she answered, walking slowly towards him. “Thanks for the fuck. See you on Monday.”

He opened his mouth, blinking a few times, and she laughed tenderly.

“Ben, I’m butt naked. I’m not going anywhere. I was looking for you,” she said in a soft voice, finally reaching the couch and sitting on the armrest across from the one he was leaning against. She curled up, bringing her knees to her chest and facing him, wiggling her toes on the cold leather cushion.

She could almost hear his brain working from across the couch, and it took him a few seconds to answer.   

“I was reading.”

“No shit,” she smiled, scrunching up her nose. “I’m cold.”

“Want some tea?” he asked, closing the book and sitting up straight.

“Thanks, I’m good,” she answered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, perfectly aware that the movement made the blanket slide down her arm, exposing her naked shoulder.

His eyes darted towards the newly exposed skin for a split second, but he looked away quickly, clearly making a herculean effort to keep his eyes on her face.

“I folded your clothes. They’re on the armchair in the bedroom, if you wanna…. Get dressed. To keep warm.”

Now, where the fuck was he going with this? Was he playing stupid on purpose? She drew in a deep breath, deciding to switch strategies.

“I was actually thinking more….. Dunno….. Friction?”

She smiled mischievously, letting the blanket slide further down her arm, but he kept his eyes on her face, clenching his jaw.

And then it dawned on her.

Oh.

She scurried to cover her shoulder, feeling her cheeks getting warm and a lump forming in her throat.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.     

“Sorry, I…. didn’t mean to assume you’d… wanna…. You know….”

_Keep this going. See me as more than a one night stand. Have children and a dog._

She got up, pulling the blanket closer to her neck. “I’ll just…”

She gestured to the door, feeling her eyes burn as much as her cheeks, and his eyes widened.

“No… no! That’s not… I wanna. I do,” he stammered, sitting up straight and throwing the book on the coffee table. “I just need to….”

He sighed deeply, rubbing his neck. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

She felt like she’d swallowed a bucket of ice. She should have known her happiness wasn’t going to last. Why couldn’t she fucking _learn her lesson_?

She just looked at him for a few seconds. He was the picture of anguish and misery.

“Can you… sit down, please?” he murmured.

Oh, no. She really didn’t want to.

“Listen, it’s cool. Really. You don’t have to explain anything,” she said, hoping he couldn’t hear her heart breaking but pretty sure he could hear her voice cracking.

“No, I do. Just hear me out, please. I’ll….”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he seemed to struggle to choose his words, “I’ll take you home after you hear me out, if that’s what you want.”

What she _really_ wanted was to be teleported to her bed and cry her eyes out for the rest of the weekend, thank you very much. But the pain in his eyes was so transparent she couldn’t stop her body from sitting back down on the armrest, as far away from him as physically possible.

She held his gaze for a few seconds, but he broke it before he started speaking, unable to look her in the eye while he said what he had to say.

That was just perfect.

“Rey, I…” he mumbled, staring at his hands. “I’ve been… You’re all I’ve been thinking about for a while now. But you probably knew that already.”

He finally looked up at her, his eyes completely lost.   

She wanted to tell him that, no, she didn’t know that, but her vocal folds seemed to have lost their capacity to produce any sound, so she just kept staring. He looked even more miserable when he spoke again.

“I know we got off on the wrong foot, but then you… then you didn’t seem to hate me as much anymore, and I thought maybe…”

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, and she didn’t know if she could handle this much longer.

“Maybe?” she managed to choke out, desperate to get him to say whatever he needed to say.

“Maybe I should act on my feelings. See if you…” he shook his head, sighing heavily. “There’s a reason why I didn’t act on them before. I shouldn’t have lost all self-control last night. Not before you knew.”

“Before I knew what?” Rey demanded, her voice coming out louder than she expected. For the sake of her dignity, she tried to ignore the fact he’d just admitted he regretted what they’d done.

She wasn’t going to think about that now. He wasn’t going to see her cry.

He looked at her, not seeming surprised in the slightest at her tone, which didn’t make him look any less miserable. He was in silence for a few seconds, and then he finally spoke.

“It’s about what I told you on Monday. About my family.” He sighed heavily, closing his eyes again and finally saying it.

 “M-my mother.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Rey’s mouth blurted out before she could rationalize it, relief making every single muscle in her body relax at once as she slid down from the armrest to the cushion, her feet almost touching his. She clenched her chest under the blanket, breathing heavily. “Are you just trying to tell me you’re Leia’s son?”

She felt so relieved she could have laughed at his shocked expression, but she did her best to keep a straight face. This was obviously a huge deal for him.

“You knew?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

She recomposed herself, sitting up straight and scooching over closer to him.

“Not before Monday, no. But I put two and two together when… well, I was ill, and kinda stalking you a little, and it kinda….”

“And you had sex with me anyway?” he sputtered, leaning forward.

Good, he’d ignored the stalking part. She’d meant to omit that bit.

“Oh, is _that_ what we did? Shit!” she joked, trying to make him laugh. He was clearly too shocked for that, so she leaned forward too, smiling at him.

“Why on Earth would you think that would make me not want to have sex with you?” she asked softly, freeing one arm from the blanket to stroke his cheek.

He shrugged, leaning into her touch. “Dunno… she obviously means a lot to you and I…. I wasn’t honest about it.”

She smiled wider, threading her fingers through his hair. “Yeah, she means a lot to me. And so do you,” she whispered, shifting on the couch so that she was kneeling on the leather cushion. “And you _were_ honest. You just omitted that bit. I can understand why.”

She could see her own relief mirrored in his eyes now, and his breathing became deep, as if he’d been holding his breath for hours. He shifted to a cross-legged position, and the leather screeched under his legs as he raised a hand towards her face too, tucking her hair behind her ear in absolute silence.

“I’m happy you chose to tell me, though. And I’m here if you ever wanna talk about any of it, ok?” she smiled, leaning closer and tilting her head.  “I happen to know a thing or two about feeling alone.”

“You’re not alone,” he whispered, planting the softest of kisses on her lips.

“Neither are you,” she answered,  pressing her forehead against his.

She just enjoyed the sound of his breathing until he spoke again.

“Does that mean you don’t want me to take you home?”

“Not right this second, no,” she murmured, unable to wipe a puerile smile off her face.  

“Good,” he whispered, kissing her softly again. “Cause I thought I heard you say something about being butt naked.”

She laughed, sitting on her ankles and raising her eyebrows. ”Oh, you _were_ paying attention, then?”

He shot her a half smile, scooching over and towering over her. “Yeah,” he breathed, placing a hand on her arm and pulling the blanket down gently, just enough to expose her shoulder to the biting night air. “Saw you teasing me with this pretty little shoulder too,” he planted a gentle kiss on her naked skin, making her mouth go dry.

“Heard something about you stalking me, too, but we can talk about that later,” he mumbled against her skin, and she laughed again, tracing her fingers over his chest.

“You’re such a jerk.”

“Yes, I am,” he whispered, trailing light kisses up her neck, all the way up to the corner of her mouth. “But you already knew that,” he breathed, letting his lips hover over hers for a split second before enveloping her mouth in a kiss.

 She’d never get used to this, she marveled as his tongue explored her mouth. Kissing him felt a lot like stepping into RBS for the first time – right and real, like her whole life up until that moment finally made sense. Like she belonged there.

She raised a second hand to cup his face, deepening the kiss, and, unsupported, the blanket finally slid down her torso, exposing her breasts. As if sensing her nakedness, his hand traveled to her waist, and he trailed his fingers up to her left nipple, teasing it gently.

A sound that hung between a gasp and a moan escaped her lips, and he broke the kiss, smiling smugly.

“You weren’t lying, then,” he murmured, trailing kisses down her chin, neck, collarbone, sucking and licking ad he reached her sternum. His mouth burned holes in her skin, and every single one of them ached gloriously.

It didn’t take him long to turn his attention to her nipple, and she moaned as he swirled his tongue around it, occasionally breaking the rhythmic movement with gentle sucking motions.

Her breasts weren’t his final stop, though, as she soon found out when his mouth ventured further south, passing her ribcage, her waist, her navel, licking and nibbling every inch of skin on its path. As he progressed, he pushed her gently but firmly until she was lying on her back, her knees bent. 

The wetness between her legs felt so out of hand she was sure she was about to leave a permanent stain on the leather couch, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Especially not when he stopped near her lower abdomen for a few seconds, showering it in curt wet kisses and growling into her sensitive skin.

“You taste so good,”

She could feel his words rippling on her skin, and it made her toes curl, her feet now resting on his broad back as he positioned himself between her bent knees.

“I wonder if….” he growled again, looking into her eyes for a split second before licking her groin lavishly. A small whimper escaped her lips, and she tugged his hair involuntarily, which prompted him to look at her again. The sight of his lush lips so close to her skin and his eyes dark with desire made her walls throb just as much as the touch of his tongue did.

He looked at her for a couple seconds that felt like an eternity, clearly basking in something his eyes had found in her face. She didn’t have the time to figure out what that was, though, because his tongue suddenly darted out, snaking wetly through her folds. She had to bite her fist to repress a scream, but a squeal escaped her throat anyway, and he smiled.

“Yeah, you taste that good everywhere,”

She knew she needed to tell him something but she couldn’t remember what it was, feeling like she was drifting in and out of consciousness as his tongue worked diligently on her clit, delicate and soft at first, but harder and faster as her whimpers became more frantic.

When he took a second to part her folds with his fingers, licking the wetness off his lips, she had a millisecond of clarity that allowed her to murmur “I didn’t shower after yesterday. I’m all…”

“Shhhh,” he interrupted, planting kisses and small licks on her labia. “It’s for science,” he whispered, resuming his work on her clit as he slid a finger inside her.  

She let out a gasp that turned into a loud moan, grabbing a handful of his hair and arching her back at the same time. His licks morphed into and open mouth kiss as his finger slid in and out, teasing the flesh that was still tender from the attention it had been given a few hours before. The combination of stinging pain and blinding pleasure sent her spiraling out of control.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she panted, and he looked up at her again with a half-smile, curling his finger inside her.

“So foul mouthed,” he breathed, sucking on her clit with a ferocity that finally pushed her over the edge. Her thighs quavered violently around his neck and, with a muffled cry, she felt every single nerve ending short-circuiting, involuntary spasms shaking her entire body.

With her eyes closed, panting heavily, she could only feel it when he eventually pulled his finger out, kissing the apex of her thighs and crawling up to meet her face, planting kisses along the way.

“You’re dressed,” she mumbled, her eyes still closed, feeling his heat hovering over her and soothing every inch of her body. 

“So observant,” he teased, kissing her cheek. “You’re naked,” he murmured, his voice so deep she could feel it in her bones. “No pretty socks, though. Such a shame.”

She smiled, finally opening her eyes and turning her head to face him, caressing his lower lip with her own panting mouth.

“Narcissistic asshole,” she mumbled against his lips.

“Thirsty little stalker,” he mumbled back, pushing his tongue through her parted lips.

She wiggled to free her hands and cupped his face, kissing him deeply until he finally broke their kiss, breathing heavily. She couldn’t help but notice he was supporting his body weight on his forearms, keeping his hips a safe distance away from her body, so she arched her back, trying to grind against him.

He just smiled and pecked her on the lips, crawling to the floor.

“Can you control your thirsty ass for a second?” he asked, feigning outrage as he snaked one arm behind her back and another one under her knees. “You need some rest,” he smiled, bridal carrying her towards the bedroom.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, too tired to protest, whispering against his cheek.

“Are you staying in bed with me this time?”

He held her closer, and she could hear a smile in his voice when he answered.

“I’d stay with you on the bathroom floor if you decided you wanted to sleep there.”     

 

____________________

 

The tiles felt incredibly cold under her feet when she stepped out of the shower, wrapping her body in a fluffy white towel. The mirror was fogged, so she ran her palm over it, clearing it up just well enough to see her face. She sighed when she saw the purple bruises on her neck.

That’s why he’d been laughing right after morning sex, then.

Jerk.

Against her better judgement, she smiled to herself, grabbing another towel and starting to dry her hair. A delicious soreness enveloped her entire body, particularly pungent between her legs, and she didn’t mind it at all. It reminded her that he was hers.

She knew it was way too soon to be having that kind of thought, but he _had_ growled “ _mine_ ” into her neck between frantic thrusts thirty minutes before, and now she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

_Mine._

She smiled again, patting her skin dry before reaching for the clean t-shirt he’d grabbed for her and slipping it over her head. It was gray and incredibly soft, and it smelt like he was hugging her. She made a mental note to sneak it into her backpack before she left, examining the vast selection of flasks and bottles that sat on the marble counter in search of some hair product to try and deal with the tangled mess on her head.

And then she saw it.

It couldn’t be.

She grabbed the little flask with hesitant hands, spinning it around in her fingers, checking it from every angle to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.

They weren’t. It was definitely…..

“Ben!” she called, her eyes still wide. He didn’t come.

“BEN!!” she screamed, louder this time, and then there was definitely movement in the corridor.

“Rey?” he called from the bedroom door, making for the bathroom in long strides. “You ok?”

She could see him in the mirror now. He was still holding a dirty spatula, and his brows were furrowed with concern.

She turned around slowly, raising the brown flask so he could see it clearly, and then his face fell.

“Is this grapeseed oil?” she asked, doing her best to keep a stern face.

“No,” he answered, walking in her direction and trying to snatch the bottle from her hands.

She hid it behind her back.

“Why does it say grapeseed oil on the label, then?” she inquired, smiling triumphantly, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, trying to get the flask.

Their faces where millimeters away when he gave up.

“Fuck you. It makes my skin feel soft,” he mumbled, and she handed him the oil, cupping his face with one hand and threading the other one through his hair.

“Yes it does,” she whispered, kissing him, and he kissed her back, smiling as he set the flask back down on the counter.

“And that means I was…..” she mumbled between kisses.

“Right, your Righteous Rightness, queen on Right Land,” he mocked, biting her lower lip.

“I actually like the sound of that,” she mused, nuzzling his nose.

“Arrogant prick,” he jested, sliding his hands down to her ass, and she slapped his arm jokingly.

“That’s trademarked,” she scolded, and he chuckled, kissing her neck.

“No, it isn’t,” he grumbled, bending down and throwing her over his shoulder effortlessly with one swift movement.

“Put me down, you fucking Neanderthal,” she laughed, scratching his back, but they were already moving.

“Nope,” he slapped her ass, making her squeal. “Enough bathroom time for you. I’m making eggs.”

She just accepted her fate, hanging limply and taking the opportunity to stare at his ass while he dragged her to the kitchen.

“Can you grab my phone while you’re manhandling me?” she asked, and he got down on one knee when they approached the backpack that lay near the front door, holding her effortlessly with one hand while he looked for her phone.

“Is the ass grabbing necessary?” she groaned, biting back a smile.

“Safety measure,” he answered, standing back up with her phone in hand.

“There you go,” he said smugly, kissing her neck as he sat her down on a stool and handed her the phone.

“Thanks for the ride, Tarzan,” she smirked, pecking him on the lips and getting a beaming smile in return before he got back to the stove. The smell of butter, eggs and fresh coffee made her stomach growl as she unlocked the screen, scrolling through notifications.

One of them made her heart sink.

“Shit,” she cursed, tapping and swiping with trembling fingers.

“What is it?” Ben asked, looking up from the frying pan.

“Paige called,” she answered, her throat feeling rusty. The last 12h had been so insane she’d completely forgotten about her friends’ father. It made her sick to her stomach.

“Hey,” he said softly, turning off the burner and coming closer, kissing her hair. “I’m here.”

“I know,” she whispered, resting her head against his chest as she brought the phone to her ear.

It rang for what felt like an eternity, and then Paige’s voice answered.

“Rey?”

“Paige, I’m so sorry, I’ve just checked my phone. You guys OK?”

“Babe, it’s Saturday, I shouldn’t have called that early. We’re fine, dad’s still in ICU, but the doctor says it’s looking pretty good,” her friend said in a reassuring tone, and  Rey’s heart felt a thousand pounds later.

“That’s great news! So great, Paige!  Is your mom alright? Rose?”

“Yeah, we’re all really tired, but I think the worst is over. Mom went home to shower, Rose’s here with me.”

Just as she said that, a loud ring tone filled the kitchen, and Ben scurried to grab his phone from the countertop, sending the call to voicemail and putting it in airplane mode.

It was too late.

“Is someone there with you?” Paige asked, curiosity oozing through the phone.

“What??” Rey heard Rose’s voice say in the background.

“A phone just rang, and it couldn’t have been Rey’s” Paige voice was muffled, as if she was covering the speaker.

Rose squealed, and Rey rolled her eyes as she said “Gimme that!”.

“Who is it?” Rose’s voice said when she finally managed to snatch the phone, and Rey sighed again.

“It was the TV, Rose,”

“The TV star? The tall, handsome, thick one?”

“Rose!”  

“It _is_ almost 1 and she _did_ say she’s _just_ checked her phone,” Paige said in the background, and Rey bit her lower lip.

Et tu, Paige?

“Uhhhhhh, now _that’s_ tea,” Rose celebrated.

“No tea, Rose. It’s not Kylo, OK?” Rey whispered, completely forgetting Ben was right beside her for a split second. She raised her eyes slowly, only to find his eyebrows raised and an amused smirk on his lips.

She flipped him off.

“Never mentioned any names. But you do you, boo” Rose said nonchalantly, and Rey rolled her eyes again.

“Gotta go, OK? Making breakfast. Give your mom and dad a hug from me,”

“Hungry after all that sex, ha?” Rose asked smugly, but Rey’s finger was already hovering over the red button.

“Bye girls,” she sang before ending the call, setting the phone on the countertop next to Ben’s.

“So,” he said infuriatingly slowly, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I take it their dad's fine?”

“Yes,” she answered, splaying her hands across his chest and staring intently at her own nails.

“And I take it you’ve been talking about me?” he mumbled, bending down to nibble her earlobe.

“No,” she lied, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“No? Rose just asked if the phone was mine for no good reason?” he teased, kissing her jaw.

“Well, apparently she started _shipping us_ after your thirsty ass couldn’t stop asking about me when she was doing your makeup,” she retorted, smiling, and he chuckled, kissing the corner of her mouth.

“Good thing I didn’t ask for your number like I was going to, then,” he mumbled before capturing her mouth in a kiss. 

She just smiled, kissing him back and wrapping her legs around his waist, their breakfast long forgotten.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Just wanted to let you know updates will probably be less frequent from now on. Long story short, my very existence is being threatened by the ascension of a fascist regime in my country. You know. The usual. 
> 
> If you’d like to ask me anything about it, feel free to contact me, but I’ll recommend a few links down below. This fic has been a really effective coping mechanism so far, but election day’s just around the corner and, as an artist, a PhD candidate in Sociology, a bisexual woman, a democratic socialist activist and a very, very vocal supporter of the Workers’ Party, I’ve been focusing all my energy on campaigning for my candidate (Fernando Haddad) and dealing with panic attacks. 
> 
> In all honesty, I have no idea what’s going to happen to me if Jair Bolsonaro wins. This man has stated that LGBTQ+ people only exist because their parents failed to “beat the gay out of them”; that he wouldn’t rape a fellow congresswoman because “she wasn’t worthy of it”; that the military dictatorship (1964-1985) only did wrong when its agents “tortured people without killing them” and that, as soon as he becomes president, he’ll “strafe the petralhada” (“petralhada” is a pejorative, classist label used to describe the Workers’ Party’s supporters, but that hard-right conservatives ascribe to anyone they deem “leftist”, “subversive” or “immoral”). 
> 
> In other words, I’m a member of the “petralhada” Bolsonaro’s eager to strafe. 
> 
> If any fellow Brazilian reylos are reading this, stay safe and stay strong. Ele não. Ele nunca!
> 
> Sorry for the long, depressing rant. I’ll do my best to keep updating this fic ‘cause it really helps me out a lot. Just thought you guys deserved an explanation in case I go a while without posting. Love your faces <3 
> 
>  
> 
> Links:
> 
> https://youtu.be/k0sPPRAkmAM?t=1505
> 
> https://www.bbc.com/news/av/world-latin-america-45458730/jair-bolsonaro-five-things-about-brazil-s-far-right-front-runner?intlink_from_url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.bbc.com%2Fnews%2Ftopics%2Fc4wq0zk0wq2t%2Fbrazil-general-elections-2018&link_location=live-reporting-map
> 
> https://www.bbc.com/news/world-latin-america-45829440?intlink_from_url=https://www.bbc.com/news/topics/c4wq0zk0wq2t/brazil-general-elections-2018&link_location=live-reporting-story
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3eyRSClnhU 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wP3LDsVhfso


	12. Emerald green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Quick update: we've lost the battle in Brazil, but, fret not, there won't be any more depressing rants in this fic. Hope is like the sun, amirite? 
> 
> On a lighter note, I experimented with some Ben POV in this chapter 'cause I might need it for future plot points and I wanted to see how you guys feel about it. Please, please, let me know what you think! If you hate it I can tinker with the story moving forward to avoid it. Hope you enjoy!

 

 

Something in the Sunday afternoon air weighed on his eyelids, but he kept resisting the slumber that tried to claim him. He’d have to take her home any moment now, and he couldn’t bear the idea of missing a single second of watching her sleep.

It had rained all day, but a few rays of sunshine had managed to break through the heavy clouds right after she’d fallen asleep, inviting themselves in through the large window of his bedroom. One of them had sat stubbornly right over her eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her eyelids were fluttering, but her expression looked soft, so the dream she was dreaming must be a good one. He smiled, lying on his side, his bent elbow sinking into the soft mattress under the weight of his upper body. 

She was perfect. There was no other way to describe her face, the grace of her delicate chin, the softness of her dainty lips, the adorably petulant curve of her pretty nose, the constellation of freckles splayed across her silky skin. And if her eyes were open....

God. Her eyes.

He could still remember the feeling in his stomach the first time he’d seen them; the day she’d walked into his dressing room looking like everything he never knew he’d always wanted. Her perfect petite body and her mesmerizing face weren’t what initially took his breath away, though. No. It was her wide, kind eyes; eyes that countless hours of intent observation would teach him weren’t hazel, but the richest, most unique shade of green he’d ever seen.

Her eyes had been the end of him that day – the way they’d ignited when she unleashed her fury like a mighty storm, blazing emeralds staring right into his very soul. From that day on, they’d haunted his every waking hour, eventually making their way into his dreams.

He remembered pushing her buttons just to see them ignite like that, and he also remembered the day he’d gone way too far trying to hide how completely far gone he was. He could still see the hurt and sorrow that peeked through the transparent layer of raging fury in her eyes the night of Cassian’s wedding.  It made him want to punch a wall every time he thought about it.

It had taken every ounce of courage he had to apologize, and he’d only managed to do it because the thought of never seeing her again was far more unbearable than anything she could say to him.

 

***

_“Ben, look at me,” Jyn murmured soflty, kneeling in front of him and taking his hand. He raised his eyes, but he couldn’t see much through the veil of whiskey and tears._

_“You can’t do that anymore. You can’t let your own issues make you hurt people like that. What are you afraid of?”_

_“I’m not afraid,” he slurred, trying to pull his hand free, but she held on to it, squeezing it gently._

_“Yes, you are,” her kind voice insisted, and he could feel Cassian’s hand on his shoulder. “You’re afraid of how she makes you feel, aren’t you?”_

_“She hates me,” he grumbled, bringing his free hand over his eyes and sinking into the vintage velvet couch._

_“She has every right to, man,” Cassian said, squeezing his shoulder. “You’ve been acting like an asshole. Thing is – you’re not an asshole.”_

_He let out a sarcastic chuckle, turning around to face his friend._

_“Of course I’m an asshole, dude. That’s what I do.”_

_“No, Ben,” Jyn intervened, and he looked back at her. “Kylo Ren’s an asshole. You’re a good man with a ton of issues. There’s a difference.”_

_“I am Kylo Ren,” he retorted, exasperated, but she just smiled._

_“Yes, you are. But you’re Ben too. Show her Ben. Apologize. Make it truthful. Let her know what you really think about her. She’ll see it.”_

_She smiled again, stroking his knee gently. “She’ll see you, Ben.”_

_***_

And she had, hadn’t she?

 _“I like Ben,”_ she’d said in that car ride, resting her face on the headrest and looking at him with something brand new in her beautiful eyes. That was the day he’d started to allow himself to hope. Only a few days had gone by, but they felt like an eternity of tossing and turning, praying she was starting to feel the same way he did.

“I like you too, Rey,” he’d meant to say before the GPS interrupted him. Maybe it had been for the best, just like the truck honking and the delivery guy knocking.

Yes, it had been providential. At that point, he’d already decided that, if he had the slightest chance with her, he’d do it the right way. She had to know everything; she had the right to know who he really was. She had the right to make a conscious choice.

He swallowed hard, brushing her hair away from her sleeping face as he remembered the feeling of waking up next to her for the first time.

Bliss. Euphoria. Excitement. And then panic.

***

_What the fuck had he done?_

_He untangled their limbs carefully, every cell in his body protesting the loss of contact with her body, and stumbled towards the living room, closing the bedroom door behind him._

_Poisonous vines wrapped around his neck, burning his skin and making it harder and harder to breathe with each second that went by. Shame and self-loathing filled his chest to the brim, threatening to take over his fists, but he couldn’t just trash his entire apartment in the middle of the night. Not when she was asleep in the next room._

_He breathed heavily, trying to control himself as he got dressed. His t-shirt sat on top of her sweater, and, after he’d slipped it over his head, he sat down on the floor next to her clothes._

_His hands hovered over the fluffy blue fabric of her top for a few seconds, and then he grabbed it, bringing it to his lap and allowing his fingers to reverently caress the material that had touched her skin only a few hours before._

_When he brought it to his lips to kiss it, her smell invaded his senses, and he drew in a deep breath._

_It was verbena, lemongrass and vanilla; fresh, herbal and sweet but powerful and unique at the same time. Just like her. It was the smell that made him memorize her schedule. The smell that made him park his car in the parking garage, get out of the elevator when it reached the lobby and pretend to have coffee as he waited for her to arrive everyday just so he could be with her for an extra 30 seconds._

_He drew in another deep breath, memorizing her scent as he put the sweater down, starting to fold it with worshipping fingers, unshed tears burning his eyes._

_She’d hate him. She’d never forgive him for lying to her. Not about that. Not when he’d said the things he’d said about the woman she adored like a mother._

_He’d doomed their first time to be their last._

_When all her clothes were neatly folded in a pile in front of him, he picked them up gently, standing up and making his way to the bedroom. He opened the door carefully, the light coming from the living room dissolving the darkness ever so slightly._

_After setting her clothes on the armchair, he walked slowly towards the bed, his body begging him to crawl in next to her. He couldn’t._

_Her shoulder was exposed, so he covered it gently, allowing his fingers to stroke her hair for a brief second._

_“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered into the darkness, his voice coming out raspy. “I’m so sorry.”_

_She wasn’t listening._

***

He smiled again, shifting on the mattress and running his forefinger softly over her lips. The sheets wrapped around her body covered a few strategic points, but her thigh was exposed, so he placed his hand on it gently, caressing it with featherlight strokes.  

She hummed in her sleep, and it reminded him of her humming lazily into his shoulder the night before after riding him on the couch until they climaxed simultaneously. One second they’d been talking and laughing over pizza and beer, watching reruns of Dameron’s show (“What do you mean you don’t like his show? What’s wrong with you? I’ll _make you_!” she’d exclaimed, fighting for the remote), and the next thing he knew she was straddling him, her gorgeous, perky breasts bouncing up and down, her raspberry nipples begging to be captured between his teeth.

The memory made his cock throb with a steady influx of blood, and, as if sensing his new state, she opened her eyes, batting her lashes as her pupils adjusted to the luminosity.

“Were you staring? You’re such a creep,” she slurred, rubbing her eyes, and he smiled, pinching her thigh.

“I was watching you drool all over my pillowcase. Couldn’t sleep thinking about what a pain laundry day’s gonna be this week.”

“I don’t drool!” she protested, slapping his chest, and he chuckled, sliding his hand up to her waist.

“You do. You snore too.”

He pulled her closer, covering her lips with his before she could protest and mumbling “But you’re so beautiful I’ll let it slide.”

She bit his lower lip in protest, and he hissed, his cock going even harder.

“Ohh, look who’s up too,” she teased, smiling against his lips as she snaked her hand down his chest, wrapping her soft, slender fingers around his erection. 

He couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped his throat, and she smiled triumphantly, rubbing his tip lazily with her thumb.

 “Weren’t you just telling me you needed to go home?” he panted, threading his fingers through her hair and reveling in the lust that had flooded her eyes.

“Yeah, and then you interrupted my logical arguments by fucking me,” she purred, sliding her hand down and caressing his balls softly with her fingertips. He gasped, tugging at her hair, and she smiled wider. “So whose fault is that?”

“Yours, for looking like a fucking five course meal all the time,” he groaned, licking the seam of her lips lasciviously and making her giggle.

“And then you wake me up groping me, with a raging boner poking my belly. Whose fault is that?”

She picked up the pace around his cock, and he felt every single muscle in his lower abdomen spasm at the same time, clenching his jaw to repress a particularly loud moan.

“Yours, for looking like a fucking five course meal when you sleep,” he answered through gritted teeth, and she smiled mischievously, biting his chin as she kneeled next to him, coaxing him to lie on his back.

“Oh, I wasn’t drooling and snoring, then?” she asked innocently, bending down to plant kisses and small licks on his lower abdomen. He groaned loudly, sliding his hand up her inner thigh, and she jerked him off faster, licking the length of his V cut, her mouth coming dangerously close to his shaft.

“I didn’t hear an answer. Do I drool and snore when I sleep, Ben Solo?” she murmured a few inches away from the base of his cock, looking up at him. He could feel her hot breath against his skin, and his back arched involuntarily as he clawed at her thigh, desperate for contact. His cock was so hard it fucking _hurt_.

Damn this woman.

“No, you don’t,” he choked out, sliding his finger up to her folds and caressing her sloppily. She was _so wet_.

Her body was positioned perpendicularly to his, which gave him a privileged view of her ass, and she was perfectly aware of it, as she made abundantly clear by swaying her hips seductively in time with his fingers.

“Oh, a confession. I’m so talented,” she purred, her lips hovering over the tip of his cock. “Kylo Ren is _quaking_ ,”

And then she wrapped her soft, warm lips around him, and everything went blank.

“Holy shit,” he growled, sliding a finger inside her. She moaned with his cock in her mouth, making it vibrate in a way that sent his back arching again.

He tangled his fingers in her hair, rolling his hips back and forth in time with her head, and she moaned again. She started adding flicks and swirls of her tongue to her long sucking motions, her right hand accompanying the rhythm of her mouth, and he wasn’t sure how long he was going to last.

Especially when he snaked her right hand up his inner thigh, massaging his balls gently as she sucked. 

“You’re perfect, sweetheart,” he babbled, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. “So, so perf-….”

His sentence was cut short when she opened up her jaw, accommodating her tongue so she could slide his length all the way to the back of her throat.

A guttural, primal sound he didn’t even know he was able to produce ripped through his chest, and he rubbed her clit desperately with one hand, tugging her hair harder with the other one.

She gagged, sucking her way up his shaft again, but the damage was done. 

“Don’t stop, baby, please, don’t stop,” he whimpered, and she bobbed her head faster, moaning around his shaft again and applying pressure to some elusive spot under his balls with the tips of her fingers.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, baby I’m…..” he panted erratically, trying to warn her, but she didn’t budge.

The thought that she _wanted him_ to come in her mouth was too much for him. With a literal scream, he felt his balls clench as a wave of blinding, hot pleasure spread through his lower abdomen, his vision getting blurred around the edges for a few seconds.

He panted heavily, massaging her scalp and her clit clumsily. She didn’t stop sucking and licking until he started to go soft in her mouth, and only then did she sit on her ankles, dislodging his hand and fixing her hair.

He sat up, still panting, and grabbed her face with one hand, supporting his bodyweight on the other one.

“What the fuck,” he murmured, claiming her mouth, and she smiled against his lips, still caressing his inner thigh.

“Parting gift,” she whispered, nibbling his lower lip, and he growled in frustration, tightening his grip on her cheeks. 

“I don’t wanna part,” he whispered in response, and she wrapped one arm around his neck, nuzzling her nose against his.

“Me neither,”

“Then stay,”

She sighed, smiling sadly.

“You know I can’t. You’ve tricked me into staying for two days. I need clothes to go to work tomorrow. And underwear.”

He was about to tease her, telling her she didn’t, but the mere thought of Dameron seeing her naked made his blood boil. He swallowed down the joke, letting go of her face and caressing her shoulder.  She must have found his expression amusing, because she smiled wide – the kind of smile that made her eyes sparkle and her nose scrunch up, moving her freckles around. It always took his breath away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” she asked softly, wrapping her other arm around his neck and parting her legs to straddle him. “I mean, if you wanna keep doing… this.”

He tilted his head, placing both hands on her waist and caressing her lower back with his fingers.    

“ _This_? You mean getting the best head ever witnessed by mankind? Yes, please,” he smiled, kissing her cheek.

She shot him another hesitant smile, pressing her breasts against his chest.

“You know what I mean. Us,”

Some shadow crossed her gorgeous eyes, and he couldn’t help but think it looked a lot like fear.

“Hey,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. “ _Us_ is the only thing I wanna do right now. I’m _this_ close to resigning just so I can stay in bed with you forever.” 

She smiled, pecking him on the lips, but her eyes still looked uncertain.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured before he could overthink it. “I feel it too.”

She parted her lips slightly, and he took the opportunity to capture her mouth with his, trying his best to pour the honesty of his words into a kiss.

 

__________________

 

 **Ben:** Let me drive you to work tomorrow.

She smiled, biting her lower lip. He was a lost cause. She sat up in bed, grabbing the phone and resuming their conversation. She couldn’t sleep anyway.

 **Rey:** For the millionth time, we can’t get there together every day. It’s too obvious.

 **Rey:** You can drive me home after work.

 **Ben:** Drive you home to my place?

She chuckled, shaking her head.

 **Rey:** No. To MY place.

 **Rey:** You can come up if you want to ;)

 **Ben:** Cool.

 **Ben:** And drive you to work the next day?

 

She laughed harder, smiling dreamily at the screen.

 

 **Rey:** You drop me at Yoda’s, then. I walk the rest of the way.

 **Ben:** No fucking way. 

 **Ben:** Let people talk.

 **Rey:** You know that’s not what I’m worried about.

 

She sighed, leaning on the old wrought iron headboard. They’d been through this. How would Leia react? Would she be disappointed? Hurt? Feel betrayed?

The mere thought made her stomach sink.

He’d insisted Leia wouldn’t mind, but she wanted to do it the right way. Go to her office and tell her; explain everything herself when they felt the time was right.

It took him a minute to answer.

 

 **Ben:** I drop you at Yoda’s. Weekends at my place.   

 **Rey:** Deal.

 

Were they making arrangements for the future? Did that mean they……

She tried not to think about it.

 

 **Ben:** I miss you.

 **Ben:** Miss your smell. 

 **Rey:** I don’t miss yours.

 **Ben:** Ouch.

 

She smiled, snapping a selfie and making sure her hardened nipples were visible through the thin fabric of his gray shirt before hitting “send”.

 

 **Rey:** Stole your shirt.

 **Ben:** You won’t get away with this.  

 **Rey:** Oh, yeah?

 **Ben:** Yeah.

 **Ben:** I’ll go do a scientific experiment with that picture now.

 **Ben:** Excuse me. Night

 

She cracked up, wishing him goodnight before making herself comfortable in bed again, waiting for sleep to claim her.

 

________________

 

She was panting as she walked into the front lobby that day, holding two cups of tea. Yoda seemed determined to make a habit out of making her two teas, and she didn’t feel like complaining. She couldn’t deny it was convenient.

She was late, though, and, so she rushed to the elevator, smiling when she saw him leaving the café and walking in the same direction.

“Hey,” she panted when they both stopped in front of the elevator, offering him a cup of tea.

“Don’t ask,” she smiled, and he just smiled back, taking the cup and making sure their fingers touched in the process.

“Nice dress,” he murmured as the doors opened, gesturing for her to walk in first.

“Thanks,” she answered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. It was the same emerald green wrap dress she’d worn the day she’d apologized to him. She’d be lying if she said it hadn’t been a deliberate choice.

It _did_ show a generous amount of skin.

“It would look even better…..” he started as the doors closed behind them, but she interrupted him, pressing the button to the fifth floor.

“Don’t even go there.”

“…… on my bedroom floor,” he completed, ignoring her.

“You went there, didn’t you?”

She couldn’t hold back a smile, and he beamed down at her.

“I really wanna kiss you right now,” he whispered, and the butterflies in her stomach went wild.

“Cameras,” she murmured, sipping her tea, and he flashed her a half-smile.

“I know. But consider yourself kissed.”

“I’ll consider myself kissed when I walk into your dressing room in a couple hours,” she murmured in the sexiest voice she could muster, smiling as his eyes went dark.

“Bye,” she grinned as the doors opened with a ding, swaying her hips more than strictly necessary as she left the elevator.     

She was still smiling when she walked into the lounge, but she tried to repress it when she saw Rose and Paige, setting her backpack down on the floor and pulling them in for a group hug.

“Tell me everything,” she asked, rubbing both their arms at the same time, and Paige answered first.

“He’s fine. He’ll be fine. Doctor says he’ll be home by the end of the week.”

Rey beamed at them, reveling in the relief in their eyes.

“That’s amaz….”

But Rose never let her finish that sentence.

“Whoa, that’s a lot on concealer on your neck!” she exclaimed, and Paige’s eyes darted to her neck just as Rey brought her hand over the bruises instinctively.

“Oh, fuck you,” she smiled, making for the lockers, but Rose wasn’t about to let it go.

“Is that Kryolan? Whoa. His mouth _is_ as potent as it looks,” she mused, and Rey fought back a snort.

Hell, it was.

“I told you it’s not Kylo, ok?” she whispered, grabbing her brush belt, but Paige crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow.

“Who is it then?”

Rose crossed her arms as well, mimicking her sister.

“Yeah, who is it?”

There was no way out of this one. The layperson wouldn’t notice the concealing work on her neck, but of course her friends would.

 _I’m a makeup artist, not a miracle worker_ , she’d told Ben on Saturday morning when she forbade him to leave love bites on visible skin, but he’d just laughed. The asshole.

She sighed heavily, trying to think up an excuse that would omit the truth, but that didn’t make her lie to her friends.

“It’s a guy I met at a gig.”

They didn’t look too convinced.

“ _Met_ as in……..” Paige asked.

“ _Met_ as in did his makeup,” Rey answered, fixing her brushes. “But he isn’t….. widely known.”

It wasn’t a lie, she told herself. Kylo was famous, Ben wasn’t.

“Hmmm,” Rose hummed, scratching her chin. “And what’s his name?”

“Ben,” Rey said matter-of-factly, leaning against the lockers and crossing her arms.

“And does _Ben_ have a last name?” Paige prodded.

“What, so you can stalk him? No, he doesn’t,” Rey retorted, grabbing her case and making for the door.

“Oh, c’mon Rey!!” Rose whined, and Rey looked back at them, sighing.

“It’s all very new, guys. And…… and fragile. I really want this one to work out. Please,” she said candidly, and her friends’ expressions softened.

“Of course, baby,” Paige murmured, closing the distance between them and hugging her. Rose drew closer too, rubbing her arm sympathetically.

“Kylo’s going to be heartbroken, but if you’re happy we’re happy for you,” she said with a smile, and Rey laughed.

“Yeah, sure. Late for Finn, guys. Catch you later,” she said, still smiling as she finally left the room.

Thankfully Finn didn’t have Rose’s and Paige’s trained eyes, so he didn’t notice anything different about her neck, and neither did the crew members during his show. In all honesty, she didn’t really care anymore. She just wanted time to fly by so she could go to his dressing room, feel him, touch him, smell him.

When they finally wrapped up Finn’s show, she just shot him a smile and waved goodbye, grabbing her case and walking out of the studio as quickly as her feet would take her without running.

She fixed her hair along the way, slowing down in front of every reflective surface to check her makeup. It was probably useless, because he’d probably turn her hair into a tangled mess within minutes.

Her thoughts wandered to her riding him on his couch, his fingers tangled in her hair, his velvet lips wrapped around her nipple, and she could feel the wetness pooling between her legs as she approached his door.

That was just perfect.

She sighed, knocking on the door, but he didn’t answer.

She was about to knock again, furrowing her brows, when the door flew open and a hand grabbed her by the waist, pulling her inside.

She was pressed against the wall before she could process what was going on.

“Why the fuck did you think that dress was a good idea?” he groaned against her lips, his hands traveling roughly around her waist, her breasts, he thighs, her ass, clawing at the thin fabric of her dress and burning the skin underneath.

“‘Cause I like it,” she moaned wrapping her arms around his neck and whimpering as he cupped her breasts, squeezing them harshly.

“I like it too,” he whispered, kissing her deeply, and she couldn’t find it in her to resist him.

“Ben?” she finally managed to murmur after a couple minutes, when he started to grind his erection against her belly. He just hummed, kissing her collarbone.

“We can’t. Not here. I have to get you ready,”

“No, you don’t. Fuck the show,” he growled, reclaiming her lips, and she splayed both hands across his chest, pushing him gently. He understood she was being serious, breaking the kiss and panting heavily.

“Not here,” she whispered, running her fingers through his tangled hair and smiling softly. “This is my job. I won’t go sucking you off while you interview people, you know?”

“You won’t?” he asked, feigning disappointment as he caressed her back softly, and she snorted, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“C’mon, sit down,” she smiled, taking his hand and pulling him towards his chair.

He managed to behave fairly well while she worked on his face, and she eventually gave up on slapping his hands away, letting him stroke her waist and her ass while she did his brows.

“Are you planning on walking onstage with a hard-on?” she smiled, pecking his lips as she reached for the setting spray.

“No,” he hesitated, squeezing her ass when she turned around. “I was planning on jerking off after you left.”

She threw her head back laughing, turning back around and tucking his hair away from his face.

“Don’t,” she murmured, leaning in and planting another soft kiss on his lips. “Save it for later,”

His eyes went dark, but she didn’t give him the time to answer.

“Close your eyes,” she asked, smiling when he did as he was told and spraying his face.

“There you go,” she said softly, staring into his eyes as she fixed his hair. “Perfect.”

“Right back at you,” he whispered, stroking the underside of her breasts with his thumbs, his hands lodged firmly on her waist. 

She smiled, tilting her head and kissing him again, careful not to ruin her work. “Go get dressed,” she whispered against his lips. “We’re late.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, smiling, and she took a step back, grabbing her case.

“See you onstage,” she winked, smiling wide as she made for the door. She could hear him groan as she closed it behind her.

She stopped for some water after she left his room, taking a couple minutes to catch her breath, and then made her way towards the studio, trying to ignore the throbbing sensation between her legs. She was almost there when someone grabbed her waist from behind, making her jump.

“Reyrey!!” Poe exclaimed in her ear, and she squealed.

“Fuck you, Poe,” she laughed, turning around to punch his arm. “I almost died.”

“Now, that’d be a waste!” he beamed at her, placing both hands on her waist, and she smiled, scrunching up her nose.

“Whoa, look at you in that dress! Good for you!” he teased, and she laughed, stroking his arm tenderly.

“Did you need something?” she raised an eyebrow, and he shot her his best smile.

“Yeah! So, as you know, the most important day of the year’s just around the corner.”

She laughed, shaking her head. Of course he was a Leo.

“Your birthday, yeah. What about it?”

“I’m throwing a party. My place, Friday, two weeks from now. You’re coming, right?” he tilted his head, tickling her waist, and she couldn’t help but beam at him.

“I’m going if you and Finn finally take the opportunity to make it official,” she whispered, and his eyes went wide.

“How the fuck did you….” he started to say, but something caught his eye before he could finish the sentence.

“Kylo!” he exclaimed, looking to his left and smiling. The butterflies in Rey’s stomach went wild as she followed her friend’s eyes, turning her head slowly.

She had to hold on tighter to Poe’s arm when she saw him in his all-black attire, his jet black suit clinging to his body in all the right places. Her mouth went impossibly dry.

He was already in character, she thought dreamily as she looked at the frown on his gorgeous face, his narrowing eyes and his clenched jaw.

God. She couldn’t deny Kylo Ren made her just as wet as Ben Solo did.

“Kylo, I was just inviting Rey to my birthday party. My place, Friday the 16th. Make sure you drop by, Cassian and Jyn are coming.”

Ben seemed to be the only person in the world who was immune to Poe’s smile.

“I’d rather rip my own eyes out,” he said in a menacingly calm tone, walking past them with the same frown on his face.

“Rey,” he called in an impossibly deep voice when he’d almost reached the studio doors. “We’re live in ten.”

She snapped out of her thirsty trance, mildly annoyed at the way he’d treated her friend. She knew he was playing a part, but he _really_ had to tone it down. She’d have to talk to him about it.

“Yeah sure,” she murmured, hugging Poe and kissing his cheek. “See you later, babe,” she squeezed his hand, smiling.

“Later. Good luck with Grumpy,” he smiled back, and she made for the door in long strides.

__________________

He wouldn’t have been able to retell any details of that specific interview. He just followed his script mechanically, probably more aggressively than he usually would, but unable to bring himself to care.

He knew he had no right to be jealous. Rationally, he knew it.

This thing between him and Rey, whatever it was, had been going for only three days, and they hadn’t said a thing about exclusivity.

There was nothing rational about his urge to punch Dameron square in the face, and still it consumed him.

Poe Dameron, with his charismatic personality, his dazzling smile and his beloved show. His mother’s favorite.

Poe Dameron, with his grimy hands all over Rey. _His_ Rey.

He knew he had no right to think of her as his. It was way too soon. They hadn’t discussed  their status. _Rationally,_ he knew it.

But there was nothing rational about the creature that roared furiously in his chest at the mere thought of another man touching her, kissing her soft skin, looking into her beautiful, pleading eyes as she came.

No. He had to make her _see_ she didn’t need anyone but him. Whatever was going on between her and Dameron, however long it had been going for, he needed to make her _see_ she didn’t need it.

Of course he’d caught on to it from the get-go. Of course he’d seen _Dameron_ placing his grimy hand on her waist over and over again back when touching her was still a distant dream for him. Of course he’d seen her kissing _Dameron_ ’s cheek, calling Dameron _baby_ back when he could only dream about the taste of her lips.  

He wasn’t stupid.

But now – now that he could touch her just because; now that he knew her mouth like the back of his hand – now it hurt so much more.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it when she came for his touch-up, smiling and swaying her hips in that obscene dress, looking good enough to eat.

“You OK?” she whispered, powdering his face.

“Yeah,” he answered, unable to tear his eyes away from her cleavage.

“Ben. Cameras. Microphone,” she mouthed, raising an eyebrow, and he was about to say “Fuck that” when Connix yelled “Thirty seconds, guys!

She shot him a quick smile, bouncing offstage, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

No. No way in hell. He’d find a way.  

He felt relief wash over him when the show was over, yanking his microphone off his belt as soon as the "live” light was turned off.

“Kylo, what’s gotten into you today? You almost made Dodonna cry,“ Connix scolded him, drawing closer and fixing her headpiece. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s great for the ratings, but…”

“Kaydel, can we talk ratings later?” he mumbled, his heart racing as he saw a blur of emerald green disappear backstage. “I really need to… do something.”

Connix just gaped at him when he placed the microphone in her hand and rushed backstage, desperate do find Rey. It took him a few minutes venturing through empty corridors to finally spot her in the south wing, filling a cup of water. He stopped just around the corner, noticing that her hands were trembling under the water fountain.

A few seconds went by before she dropped the cup on the floor, cursing under her breath as a large puddle formed around her feet. She looked around frantically, eventually making for a door that looked a lot like a large broom-closet. Perfect.

He stepped carefully, turning the door knob as quietly as he could, but he wasn’t discrete enough. She was already looking at the door when he got in, and he locked it behind him, admiring her shocked eyes.

“Ben, are you…” she started, but he pulled her by the waist, kissing her deeply before she could finish.

This kiss was almost aggressive, and he clawed at every inch of her body he could lay his hands on with a feverish sense of urgency. She didn’t seem to mind, though, as she kissed him back enthusiastically, pulling him closer by the lapel of his jacket.

“Ben, the crew…” she moaned against his lips, but he only deepened the kiss, sliding his hand up her skirt.

“This wing’s clear,” he groaned, yanking her panties down.

“They might hear us,” she insisted as he knelt in front of her, kissing his way down her belly and lifting her feet one at a time so he could remove her underwear.

“Not if you keep it quiet,” he whispered, riding her skirt up to her waist and licking the apex of her thighs hungrily before standing back up and reclaiming her lips.

“I hate you,” she moaned quietly, kissing him back, and he chuckled, the pressure inside his tight dress pants becoming almost unbearable.

“That suit,” she panted between kisses, tugging at his tie. “It’s so Kylo Ren.”

“Is that a complaint?” he mumbled, reveling in her taste, and she shook her head, purring “No”.

He broke the kiss, threading his fingers through her hair and holding her head in place as he looked her in the eye.

“Want me to fuck you with the suit on?” he grunted, and the whimper that escaped her reddened lips was enough to make him lose control.

“Whatever floats you boat, sweetheart,” he growled, turning her around and pressing her against the wall as he kissed the nape of her neck.

He tugged her hair, undoing his belt and unzipping his pants with his free hand. She moaned as he tugged his pants down to free his erection, and he nibbled her earlobe in response.

“Shhhh,” he whispered, licking her neck. “Be a good girl.”

He let go of her hair, wrapping his right arm around her waist and cupping her left breast as he pressed her back flat against his chest.

“Touch yourself,” he whispered in her ear, and she promptly slid a hand between her legs, rubbing her clit frantically.

“Good girl,” he growled, using his own feet to part her legs and wrapping his left hand around his erection.

He sheathed himself inside her with one swift thrust, and she whimpered, pressing her forehead against the wall.

“Shhhhh,” he whispered again, planting a soft kiss on her left shoulder and starting to roll his hips, bending his knees slightly.

She hummed, resting the back of her head on the lapel of his jacket as he picked up his pace, pulling her dress down to expose her breast and pinching her nipple.

“You’re mine, Rey,” he growled, biting her shoulder. “ _Mine_ ,” he repeated, rolling her nipple between his forefinger and his thumb, desperate to make his mark on her.

She was babbling incoherently, rubbing her clit desperately, and he felt she was close when her warm, sleek walls tightened around his shaft.

He slowed down, bending his knees to hook his left hand behind her knee and lifting it gently, coaxing her to bend her leg and bring her thigh to her chest.

Kissing the nape of her neck again, he repositioned his cock in her entrance, planting one last soft kiss before he buried himself inside her, going as deep and as fast as he could.

The new angle allowed him to go much deeper, and he buried his face in her hair to muffle an animalistic grunt when he felt his balls clench.

“I’m coming inside you, baby,” he growled, and she let out a delicious whimper, her walls clenching around him just as he climaxed inside her.

He let go of her leg, wrapping both arms around her waist as she went limp in his arms and pulling her to his chest, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“Mine,” he whispered again, turning her around and kissing her panting lips.

“Yours,” she murmured, her eyes shining like emeralds, sweet and drowsy. “But I still hate you,” she breathed, and he smirked, kissing her softly again.

“I can live with that,” he panted, pulling her closer and pressing his forehead against hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poe's birthday coming up in chapter 13. What could possibly go wrong, right? 
> 
> As uncle Luke would say, this is not going to go the way you think. 
> 
> Comments and feedback make my day! Love your faces <3


	13. City lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I made a moodboard! Don't drag it, I'm a noob but it makes me feel fancy XD  
> Hope you enjoy this one! <3

 

“That one!! Ohhhhh, that one that one that one!!” Rose squealed, bouncing up and down in her seat. Rey just smiled, raising an eyebrow and looking over at Paige, who usually turned out to be a more reliable source of impartial judgement.

“Yeah, Rey, agreed. That one looks amazing.”

Rey smiled wider, looking down at the dress and drawing lines with her fingers over the cold silky fabric. It was a simple slip dress, but the spaghetti straps really made her shoulders, collarbone and neck stand out, and she had to admit the low back that revealed her shoulder blades _did_ turn out to be pretty flattering. It hit her just above the knees, which balanced out the amount of skin she was showing on the top half, and the deep burgundy of the thin fabric complimented her skin nicely.

“So it’s a yay for everyone?” she asked, fiddling nervously with the thin straps. Rose and Paige just nodded enthusiastically in response, and Rey let out a sigh of relief. She did feel beautiful in it, and it was a lot more comfortable than the previous sequined number Rose had loved, which was beautiful, but extremely itchy.

“Ok, I’m getting this one! See you in a second,” she smiled, tiptoeing back to the changing room to change back into her ratty jeans.

Before she did so, she took a second to look at herself in the mirror, standing on her tiptoes to picture what the dress would look like once she was wearing heels instead of converse.

She sighed.

It did look beautiful. She wished Ben would be there to see it.

Ben.

Her heart sank when she though about the unreadable expression he’d had on his face every time she’d asked him why he wasn’t going. She’d insisted the entire week, and then she’d eventually given up when he’d started to look.....

Angry? Hurt? Disappointed? She couldn’t really tell.

Fact is he had _that_ look on his face again when she left his apartment that morning, telling him she was going dress shopping for the party with the girls. It had been the perfect Saturday morning up until that moment: they’d had amazing sex, showered, he’d cooked her breakfast and had been as sweet as ever.

 _“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen”,_ he’d murmured while she stuffed her face with eggs Benedict, and that had to be the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to someone who was stuffing their face with eggs Benedict. 

But then she’d gotten the message from Rose asking her where she was – _of course_ she’d forgotten all about their plans – and gotten dressed in a hurry, telling him she’d be back right after lunch. His hands had felt hesitant on her waist when she kissed him goodbye.

She sighed deeply, stepping out of the dress and into her civilian clothes. There was obviously something going on; something he didn’t want to tell her, and it made her stomach churn.

Did he have beef with Poe? Had Poe done something to him? He seemed to get on well with his crew; he clearly admired Connix and Rey had caught him watching Finn’s show and chuckling more than once. He’d also ask her about Rose constantly, apparently having fond memories of the week she did his makeup. Poe seemed to be the only one he absolutely _hated_.

It was a shame, because she really wanted him to get along with all of their friends if they were going to....

Were they _dating_?

They hadn’t discussed it explicitly, but they had spent every single day of that week sleeping together either at her place or at his; talking, laughing, kissing and having exceptional sex – sometimes sweet and slow, sometimes rough and urgent, but always exceptional.

She was still brooding over their status when she sat down for lunch with Rose and Paige, and, to their credit, they only called her out on it after she’d been staring at the appetizers menu for a solid ten minutes.

“Rey, what the hell”, Rose eventually said, slapping the menu jokingly and causing Rey to jump on her seat. “What’s up with you?”

“Something to do with Ben?” Paige asked gently, sipping on lemon water.

Rey sighed, putting the menu down and closing her eyes. “Well... yes and no, I guess. It’s just... I like him. I really, really like him, and it’s been… we’ve been spending a lot of time together, you know.”

“That’s good news, right?” Rose asked, putting her own glass down, and Rey sighed, leaning back on her chair.

“I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about….. about what we’re doing. Where this is going. And we shouldn’t have! I mean, we’ve been together for, what? A week? It’s too soon to be having _tha_ t talk. Way too soon.”

“Not necessarily, no,” Paige said. “Different couples have different timing. If you feel like you’re at the point of having that conversation, just talk to him.”

“What if he thinks I’m insane?” Rey murmured, fiddling with the menu and avoiding eye contact.

“Then he’s just not worth it, is he?” Paige answered, reaching for her hand.

“But he won’t,” Rose added, smiling sympathetically. “I mean, he seems really sweet from what you’ve told us. And understanding. And like he’s crazy about you.”

“He _is_ sweet,” Rey sighed, deciding on chicken parm as she set the menu aside.  “I’ll bring it up when I get a chance to do it…… organically.”

“That’s my girl,” Rose smiled proudly, patting her hand. “And what are the chances he’s seeing anyone else? You guys seem to fuck 24/7. Ain’t nobody got time for that.”

Rey snorted, crumpling up a napkin and throwing it at Rose, who just laughed.

“You actually have a point,” Rey murmured, turning around to call the waiter as her friends burst into laughter.

 

_______________________

 

When she typed in the code to get back into his building that afternoon, Rey realized her hands were shaking. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her fingers.

Why was she feeling nervous? It wasn’t like she was going to sit him down and ask him what his intentions were. She’d just casually ask him if he was seeing other people when she thought it felt natural. It might not even be today. There was no reason to feel nervous, and still her heart wouldn’t stop pounding painfully against her ribcage.

She tried to convince it to slow down on her way upstairs, but it was useless: it was still galloping out of control when she turned the doorknob, opening the door he’d left unlocked.

“Ben?” she called softly, poking her head in, but he didn’t answer.

She walked in, closing the door behind her and looking around the living room. He was nowhere to be seen, so she walked towards the bedroom, smiling wide when she found him sitting in bed, drowning in a sea of notes, folders and notepads, scribbling on a notebook with his brows furrowed in concentration.

“Do you have any idea how sexy you look when you’re working?” she soughed, putting her shopping bags down as he looked up at her.

He ran his fingers through his hair absentmindedly, flashing her a half smile, and she could actually see his muscles flexing under his thick plaid shirt.

“Do you have any idea how sexy you look when you’re all thirsty?” he replied, putting the notebook down and patting the bed next to him, asking her to join him. She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

“I’m not thirsty. Just serving facts,”

His smile broadened until his cheeks dimpled, and he crawled out of bed, walking in her direction.

“Sure, if you say so,” he murmured, grabbing her chin and tilting it gently to plant a peck on her lips. “I missed you.”

She smiled, her heart racing as his left hand drew a soft line up and down her spine.

“I’ve been gone for four hours.  Such a drama queen,” she teased, resting her hands on his chest.

He chuckled, kissing her chastely again.

“It runs in my family. Found anything you liked?” he asked, his eyes darting towards the shopping bags she’d sat on the floor.

“Yeah. Found a cute dress.”

She examined his expression, looking for any traces of that angry-hurt-frustrated look he’d had in his eyes recently. She didn’t find it, so she decided to be bold.

“It’s a shame you won’t be there to see me in it,” she smiled, tilting her head, but her smile faltered when his hand went still on her back and his eyes did _that_ thing, whatever it was.

“We’ve been through this. I’m not going,” he murmured, his voice going almost cold as he took two steps back, turning around to gather his notes.

Taking _his hands off of her._ Now, that was a first.  She could feel her heart sink to unexplored depths.

What did she say that was so offensive?

“Ben, what the fuck,” she mumbled, trying to keep her voice level as she closed the distance he’d put between them, rubbing his back gently. “I didn’t mean to push you. I just want to understand.”

When he turned around to face her, that mysterious expression had become so blatant it was now perfectly readable.

 He was hurt.

“Really, Rey? You can’t think of any reason why I wouldn’t want to go to _Dameron_ ’s birthday party?”

Rey just blinked, her brain working frantically, trying to figure out what she was missing. He talked like it was so _obvious._

“No, I can’t,” she answered, her voice going cold as well as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe I’d know what’s so obvious about it if you _talked to me_.”

He just stared down at her, clenching his jaw and holding a handful of notes that he threw back on the bed before he finally spoke.

“Listen, I know we haven’t said anything about… about being exclusive, so if you need to keep doing whatever you were doing before _this_ happened,” he swung his forefinger back and forth between them, just to clarify what he meant by _this_ “you go ahead and do that. Do _him_. Whatever.  But don’t you think it’s a bit cruel to expect me to be his _friend_?”

He seemed to be on the verge of tears when he finished his rant, but Rey’s brain was too distracted to notice, trying to make sense of what he’d just said. What the hell did he mean by all that?

“Ben, what the fuck are you talking about? I don’t….” she started to say, panic rising in her throat, and then it hit her.

Oh.

“You don’t… You don’t think Poe and I….” she stammered, her eyes going wide. “You know Poe’s gay, right?”

 You could hear a pin drop in the room as he opened and closed his mouth several times, seemingly unable to produce any sound.

“What?” he finally mouthed, and Rey couldn’t hold back the snort that escaped her chest.

“Ben, he’s…. he’s very vocal about it. Pretty sure he’s been with Finn since Jyn’s wedding. Don’t you read the tabloids?”

“No,” he retorted with a shocked expression, plopping down in bed, and she fought hard to bite back a second snort.

“Of course you don’t,” she smiled, sitting on his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck, nuzzling his hair. “You thought I was _fucking Poe_?” she snorted again, and he pinched her thigh, his ears going hot against her nose.

“Well, yeah, he’s touching you all the time,” he defended himself, wrapping his arms around her waist so tight it almost hurt.

“And you didn’t punch him _once_?” she asked, leaning back slightly to look at his face and planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “Baby, I’m so proud!” she teased, cupping his face and smiling fondly.

Something crossed his eyes when she said that, and she was almost worried she’d said something wrong, but then his eyes did that thing where they went all soft and sweet, and she couldn’t bring herself to care about anything else.

“You’re not seeing other people, then?” he whispered, anxiety oozing out of each word, and she felt her chest fluttering.

“No, of course not. I have everything I need right here,” she ran a hand jokingly over his crotch, and he smiled his breathtaking smile, letting out a chuckle as he pulled her closer. She drew in a deep breath, bringing her hands back to his face before she finally asked him the question that had been haunting her. 

“Are you?”

His fingers dug into the skin on her waist, and he looked at her as if she’d grown a second head.

“No. No, of course not,” he kissed her gently, murmuring against her mouth. “It’s you, Rey. Just you.”

“Good,” she smiled against his lips.

“Good,” he replied, tilting his head and joining their open mouths, lapping his tongue against hers as if he was kissing her for the first time.

 

________________

 

 

“Damn, there’s paparazzi,” Paige cursed, looking out the window of their Uber.

Rey sighed, running her fingers through her hair to make sure the beachy waves she tried to pull off looked casual.

“It’s cool, they couldn’t care less about us. It’s the celebrities they’re after,” she said, grabbing her purse as Rose opened the door.

Of course she’d been right. They managed to walk through the front door of Poe’s house without prompting a single flash from the men standing just outside the gates, which was a big relief.

As soon as they opened the door, the blasting music and flashing lights of the living room turned dance club invaded Rey’s senses, dizzying her for a few seconds. As she tried to adjust to the noise, someone startled her by engulfing her in a hug, and she went tense for a split second before realizing it was Poe.

“You guys came!!” he exclaimed, trying to make himself heard over Post Malone’s voice, and Rey hugged him tighter.

“We had nothing better to do with our day off!” she said with a smile, and he just laughed, lifting her off the floor before moving on to Rose and Paige.

When everyone had been properly hugged, he gestured for the three of them to lean in so they could hear him better.

“Grab a drink at the bar and go upstairs! Most of the rebels are being antisocial on the balcony,” he said as loudly as he could without screaming, and they just nodded, hugging him again and making for the bar.

Rey sipped her beer as they walked upstairs, sighing in relief when the blasting music faded into the background. As much as she loved Poe, his overcrowded annual parties weren’t her favorite thing about August.

 As they’d been warned, the large balcony upstairs had been converted into some kind of Rebel base, with chairs, beanbags and stools scattered across the wooden deck and fairy lights illuminating a kaleidoscope of familiar faces. Rey smiled and waved at them, stopping to hug her closest friends as she made for a cozy little corner where Finn and Connix were chatting enthusiastically.

“Hey, you,” she poked Finn on the ribs, and he turned around beaming.

“Peanut!! Girls!!” he exclaimed, hugging Rey, Rose and Paige all at once even tighter than Poe had.

“Don’t ruin our dresses!!” Rose squealed, laughing, and he finally let them go, giving them the opportunity to embrace a tipsy-looking Connix.

It was a mild August night, and Rey allowed herself to admire the Coruscant skyline as her friends chatted away. The city lights glistened against the dark blue sky, standing in for the stars they’d erased, and a pleasant breeze blew her hair, exposing her neck and loosening up her waves. She smiled, sipping on her beer again and looking at Finn. When he smiled at her, rubbing her arm, she felt glad she’d come.

Finn must have told a joke, because everyone laughed, but she didn’t hear it. She was pulling her phone from her small clutch bag, checking for messages. There weren’t any.

She breathed in, trying her best to tune back into the conversation. He was coming. He said he was. There was nothing to be nervous about, she thought, putting the phone away and smiling at her friends again.

Even though she tried to convince herself she wasn’t anxious, her brain must have kept the giddiness running in the background while she talked and laughed, because she was truly startled when a hand grabbed her waist twenty minutes later.

She knew it wasn’t him, of course. She could feel it, but it still startled her.

“If it isn’t my favorite MUA!!” Jyn beamed at her when she turned around, and she couldn’t help but beam back at her.

“Jyn!! You look amazing!!” she smiled, holding her at arm’s length and admiring her hair and makeup.

“Not you work, but I hope it looks alright in the dark!” Jyn laughed, stepping sideways to reveal Cassian standing right behind her.

“You two didn’t get to meet at the wedding, did you?” she asked as her husband shook Rey’s hand, and they shook their heads.

“Not properly, no,” Cassian said with a mischievous side-smile, and Jyn slapped his arm.

“Cass, don’t you dare,” she hissed, forcing a smile as she went to hug the others.

Finn had just introduced the couple to Rose and Paige, who looked severely starstruck, when Poe came rushing in with a shocked look on his face.

“Hey, hi. What the fuck is up with Kylo?” he blurted out, and Rey’s stomach did a backflip.

No. No way. He told her he’d behave.

Cassian raised an eyebrow, looking over at Jyn and Connix, and both shrugged.

“What do you mean?” Connix asked, taking a long sip from her cosmo, and Poe raised a bottle of 25-year-old Bowmore whiskey,  jiggling it in the air.

“He just showed up. Gave me _this_.”

He looked to the right and to the left, making sure no one was overhearing them before he said in a shocked whisper:

“He kinda _hugged_ me.”

Jyn chuckled, covering her mouth, and Connix spoke before anyone else.

“I’ve been telling you guys for a while. He’s cool offstage.”

Rey felt that familiar warmth spreading through her chest, hiding her smile behind the bottleneck of her beer. Poe still didn’t look convinced.

“Do you have any idea how much this bottle costs? It’s in the _600 dollar mark_. And there’s more,” he leaned in, making everyone lean closer to him as he lowered his voice even more.

“He complimented me on the Nien Nunb interview.”

“Yeah, no, he totally died and got replaced,” Cassian stated matter-of-factly, downing the rest of his beer, and everyone laughed.    

 Rey laughed, too, mainly to placate the butterflies in her stomach.

He was there.

Would she ever stop reacting like a damn _teenager_ every time someone mentioned his name ? Maybe she’d get used to it someday, she thought, but that hope flew out the window the second she turned around and saw him walking into the balcony, towering over everyone around him. Their eyes met for a split second, but he looked away quickly, smiling and waving at Jyn and Cassian as he approached them. 

He was wearing black jeans and a dark gray t-shirt under a jet-black jacket – the perfect definition of _Kylo Ben,_ Rey mused, fighting back a smile.

“Hey, man,” he mumbled, giving Cassian a hug before he went ahead and kissed Jyn on the cheek.

“Hey, everyone,” he smiled, waving at the others, and Finn flashed him a dazzling smile.

“Wearing gray, man? Feeling _merry_?” he said, and Rey’s heart fluttered when Ben smiled.

“Yeah, guess you could say that,” he answered, sipping on his whiskey and shooting Rey the quickest of looks over the rim of his glass. It was enough for her to feel her legs melting.

“Would’ve gotten better scotch if I knew you were coming,” Poe smiled, patting Ben on the shoulder, and he smiled again, lowering his glass.

“Nah, this is perfect, dude. Thanks.”

Poe looked over at Finn, widening his eyes again, and Finn nodded his understanding. Rey just smiled, staring at Ben unapologetically. It turned out to be more fun than she thought, observing people as they saw Ben for the first time.

 _Her_ Ben.  

“So, how about the honeymoon, guys? Scarif, right?” Finn asked Jyn, and she grinned.

“Oh, yeah, Scarif. Beautiful this time of the year. Unless your husband eats bad fish _on your wedding night_. Then it’s cloudy with a chance of…”

“For the love of God, don’t!” Cassian whined, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and covering her mouth, but she just bit his hand, grinning even harder.

“Ohhhh, but I will,” she beamed up at him, holding is hands down as she started telling the story.

Halfway through it, when Poe was already sitting on the floor laughing and Rey was pretty sure she’d broken about three ribs, she felt her phone buzzing inside her purse, opening it to check the notification.

 **Ben:** That’s the dress you called “cute”?

She smiled at the screen, perfectly aware that he was looking at her but avoiding eye contact as she answered.

 **Rey:** You don’t think it’s cute?

 **Ben:** No, I wouldn’t say cute.

 **Ben:** Sinful? Breathtaking? Edible? Erection-inducing? Maybe.

She smiled wider, playing with her hair and leaving her neck exposed on purpose before she typed.

 **Rey:** A true romantic.

 **Ben:** Ok. Let’s try again.

 The message “Ben is typing” burned into her retinas for the longest two minutes in history, and then her phone buzzed again.

 **Ben:** She walks in beauty, like the night  
         Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
         And all that's best of dark and bright  
         Meet in her aspect and her eyes:  
         Thus mellowed to that tender light  
         Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

She didn’t feel like she was in control of her eyes when they looked up at him, feeling weirdly warm. He met her gaze for a split second before flashing her the tiniest smile and turning his eyes back to Jyn, pretending to be paying attention to her story.

Of course she shouldn’t be surprised he knew Byron by heart, but did he have to do that to her _in public_? She drew in a big breath, putting her phone away again and forcing a smile at Jyn.

She did her best to ignore the fact that the breeze that caressed her face smelled just like him now.

“God, we need another wedding soon,” Finn laughed, wiping tears from his eyes as everyone caught their breath. Rey had completely missed the end of the story. “Who volunteers?”

“Not me,” Connix said, still laughing and holding her ribs. “My last date cried after sex.”

Everyone roared with laughter again, and Poe turned to Rey.

“How about Rey! Look at this girl. How’s she single?” he asked, wrapping his left arm around her shoulders. “That’s it, I’ll fix you up tonight. How about Bodhi for her?” he asked, turning to face Jyn and Cassian.

Rey could feel Ben stiffen without even looking at him. Oh, no.

No, no, no, no. This was going so well. 

Jyn had just opened her mouth to answer when Paige chimed in.

“Ohhhh, didn’t you get the memo? Rey isn’t in the market anymore.”

The group let out a collective “ooooohh”, and Rey felt her cheeks burning when Poe and Finn looked at her simultaneously, sporting twin shocked expressions.

“You’re _dating_?” they said in unison, and she could feel Ben’s eyes fixated on her.

This was just her luck.

“Yeah, she has a _mystery man_. Haven’t you seen her neck looking like a ripe banana lately?” Rose smirked, and Rey glowered at her.

“Ohhh, who is it, who is it?” Jyn clapped, bouncing up and down, and Rose ignored Rey’s murderous stare, resuming her babbling.

“She wouldn’t tell us, you see. Didn’t say his last name. Said we’d go stalking him. All we know is he’s in the industry and his name is _Ben_.” 

As Jyn’s and Cassian’s eyes turned towards her in slow motion, Rey calculated how tall the balcony was and how seriously hurt she’d get if she tried to jump her way out of this. She couldn’t do her math fast enough, so she just watched as their faces went from shock to confusion, and then to understanding, finally settling on amusement.

“Oh, _Ben_ , is it?” Jyn smiled calmly, visibly holding back a snort. “And in the industry? Do we know any _Bens_ , honey?” she asked Cassian, batting her eyelashes.

“Oh, we know plenty of _Bens_ , don’t we, honey? Tall ones. Short ones. Talented ones. Untalented ones. Such a common name.”

Jyn scratched her chin, resting her head on Cassian’s chest and narrowing her eyes.

“Hmmm, yeah, that’s a tough one…. If only we could narrow it down….”

“Is he on TV or movies?” Poe asked, joining the game.

“In front of the cameras or behind them?” Finn added, biting his lower lip excitedly.

“Is he a gentle lover?” Jyn grinned, clearly not giving a damn about keeping up her façade.

“Is his dick……” Cassian was about to ask, but he was interrupted by a deep voice.

“That’s enough.”

All eyes turned to Ben, and Rey mustered the courage to look at him for the first time. Much to her relief, he didn’t look as mortified as she probably looked, but she’d bet her entire eyeshadow collection his ears were turning purple under his hair.

He managed to keep his voice level and his expression neutral, though, and Rey adored him even more for that.

“You’re clearly making her uncomfortable.”

Cassian and Jyn stared at him with unreadable expressions on their faces, and Rey could almost hear their brains working as one.

“Kylo!” Cassian finally exclaimed, patting Ben’s shoulder. “Just the man we needed!”

“You’re a prodigy interviewer, aren’t you?” Jyn asked, feigning naivety. “Why don’t you try and find out the identity of Rey’s mystery man? Or should I say……”

“Mystery Ben?” Cassian completed, finishing his wife’s sentence as he held her closer.

“Oh, yeah, that’d be a fun drinking game!” Connix cheered, clapping her hands.

“A shot for each confession Kylo gets out of Rey!” Poe exclaimed, holding his beer in the air, and everyone screamed their approval.

“Guys, I don’t…” Rey pleaded, her voice coming out weak, but Ben chimed in.

“I don’t meddle in people’s personal lives,” he said nonchalantly, sipping his whiskey, and everyone groaned in unison.

“C’mon, we have to listen to her swoon over how _perfect_ this guy is _all day long_! We have the right to know!” Rose begged, clearly buzzed from her margaritas, and Rey buried her face in her hands.

Could this get any worse?

“Who’s perfect?” a voice called from behind her, and Rey could see her own shock mirrored in Jyn’s and Cassian’s faces.

“Rey’s secret boyfriend,” Poe answered cheerfully, stepping closer to Rey so their boss could join the conversation.   

“Oh, boyfriend, is it? And who would that be?” Leia asked, looking at Rey with a playful smile on her lips.

“Some guy named Ben, is all we know,” Finn said, and the world stopped around Rey as Leia’s smile slowly faltered, being replaced by……

Anger? Disappointment? Shock? Rey couldn’t quite tell. The ability to mask emotions seemed to run in the family.  

She wanted to look at Ben, at Rose, at the floor, at the stars, at anything but Leia’s eyes, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

For all Rey knew, they might have stared into each other’s eyes for years. Everything around her felt unreal; the voices and blasting music faded to a distant buzz as Leia’s eyes pierced into her soul.

And then she spoke.

“Ben, is it?”

Rey opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

And then Leia smiled. Not the playful smile she’d smiled a few moments before, no. This was something else. Rey just didn’t know what.

“Well, whoever _Ben_ is…. I hope he’s aware of how lucky he got. And I hope he honors it,” she said softly, patting Poe lightly on the shoulder before turning around.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to say hi to my other employees or they’ll accuse me of having favorites,” Leia smiled, nodding at the group as she moved away from them.

When Rey finally looked at the rest of her friends, Rose, Paige, Connix, Finn and Poe seemed blissfully unaware of what had just happened, resuming their conversation cheerfully and sipping on their drinks.

To their credit, Jyn looked just as mortified as Rey felt, and Cassian was typing away furiously on his phone with a disbelieving look on his face. In her peripheral vision, she could see Ben was typing too, but it took her a few moments to muster the courage to look at him.

When she did, he was putting his phone in his pocket, and his eyes immediately met hers. They didn’t mirror her shock or her anguish, though. On the contrary, they looked kind and reassuring, oozing that sweetness that always soothed her soul. For the long moment they held each other’s gaze, she could almost believe her world hadn’t just collapsed.

The rest of the party went by in a haze. Rey smiled and pretended to listen to everyone that approached her, but her mind was somewhere else.

 _Leia hates me_ was the only thing playing in her brain while Finn told hilarious stories about his time writing for _The Starkillers._

 _She’ll never forgive me_ was all she could think while Poe did a ridiculously accurate impression of Amilyn Holdo, making everyone laugh uncontrollably.

 _She must be so disappointed_ , she repeated over and over in her head when Rose came around with shots for everyone.

Even during Happy Birthday song, when Poe pulled Finn in for a kiss and the room exploded with cheers and screams, _I’ve failed her_ was the only thing on Rey’s mind.

While Poe gave Finn the first slice of cake, kissing him again, she took the opportunity to sneak out of the living room, desperate for silence. She walked in the dark until she reached the kitchen, crossing both arms over the dark marble countertop and burying her head in them.

She just breathed heavily for a few seconds, hoping the cool stone against her forehead would eventually make her head stop throbbing, and then she wasn’t alone anymore.

She felt his presence even before his warm hand was on her back, stroking it gently.

“Hey,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her hair. She didn’t look up.

“Baby, look at me,” he insisted, grabbing her shoulders gently, and she finally stood up straight, looking up at him.

She didn’t know when she’d started crying, but the prickling feeling in her cheeks told her she had.

“I let her down,” she choked out, trying to hold back a sob, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest.

“Shhhhh,” he whispered into her hair, kissing the top of her head. “You didn’t.  She adores you, Rey. Look at me.”

He put his finger under her chin, tilting her head up and making her meet his eyes.

“I know you didn’t want her to find out this way. I know you feel like you owe her a lot, and you have every right to be feeling this way. You do. But I need you to trust me when I tell you she’s probably planning grandchildren right now, Rey. She adores you.”

He smiled softly, wiping her tears with featherlight strokes of his thumbs and leaning in to kiss her forehead.

“She doesn’t hate you. You did nothing wrong. She isn’t disappointed. You didn’t let her down.”

He punctuated each statement with a kiss, and each one seemed to dial her pain down a bit.

“If anything she’s disappointed because she thinks you could do much better,” he whispered, smiling against her forehead, and she snorted, wrapping her arms tighter around his waist.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured with a teary smile, lifting her head to face him, and he greeted her with a beaming smile.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, wrapping her lips in warm velvet again.

His face looked blueish in the dim moonlight that invaded the dark kitchen through the windows, but, even in the half light, his eyes still shone brighter than any of the lights she’d admired in the Coruscant skyline. In the safety of his arms, wrapped in his warmth and his scent, the parade of mantras her brain had been repeating for hours slowly faded into the background, giving place to a brand new persistent thought.

_I love you._

She clenched her jaw to keep it from escaping her lips, swallowing it down and storing it somewhere deep in her chest; somewhere dark and warm where it could grow, bloom and thrive. Between the shadow and the soul, as certain dark things are to be loved.

It was way too soon to release it into the hostility of the outside world, she convinced herself, smiling as those three words took refuge in their hiding place.

 “Wanna go home?” he asked gently, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, and she nodded, biting her lower lip.

“The paparazzi…” she started to say, but he interrupted her with another kiss.

“It’s OK. I got us a driver today. I’ll go out the front door so they see me, and then we can go around the block and pick you up at the back door. How does that sound?”

“Good,” she purred, smiling again and nuzzling against his chest.

“Ok, see you in ten. Don’t go anywhere,” he teased, kissing her one last time before he let go of her reluctantly, disappearing into the dark corridor.

When he was out of sight, she sighed heavily, leaning against the countertop and burying her face in her hands again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we all agree that "She walks in beauty" is the ultimate reylo poem? Thank you.  
> Bonus points if you got that Neruda reference, by the way! So reylo. Guess everything's reylo to the reylo heart, right? 
> 
> Comments and feedback make my day! Love your faces <3


	14. Mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. Hi. Hello. Long time no see. Sorry about that. 
> 
> This one is a bit of a roller coaster. Hope it's OK!

 

 

“Ben, I have legs,” she grumbled into the crook of his neck when he swept her off the floor and into his arms.

“They don’t seem to be working that well, do they? It took us a solid hour to get from the hall to the first floor there, princess” he teased, kissing her hair and holding her closer to his torso as she nuzzled his jawline.

“God, you’re such a _jerk_ ,” she scoffed, and her breath prickled his neck. “Took me five minutes. _Tops_.”

He laughed, taking in her scent and the feeling of her soft silk dress under his fingers.

“Sure. If you say so.”

“I get sleepy when I cry, that’s all,” she drawled, and he could tell she’d closed her eyes. “And when I drink.”

“Well, let’s get you to bed before you start drooling all over my jacket again, then,”  he said, making his best to keep his tone serious and trying to unlock the door without dislodging her from the pillow she’d made out of his shoulder.

She wasn’t having any of that.

“Ouch!” he cried when she bit his ear, grinning at the little giggle she let out while she did it.

“Thought we’d been through the drooling thing. Do I have to interrogate you again, _Solo_?” She leaned back a little to look him in the eye, and his heart pounded violently when she smiled at him, just like it always did.

His cock also twitched at the memory of that particular blowjob, just like it always did when he reminisced about any part of their crescent sexual history.

“You may have, Niima,” he murmured, planting a featherlight peck on her lips as they entered the bedroom. “But right now you need to get that breathtaking ass to bed.”

She frowned as he laid her down in bed, grabbing him by the lapel of his jacket.

“That’s not fair,” she whined, her face inches away from his, and the sight of her soft, rosy lips going even fuller made his cock twitch again. He sat down next to her, grabbing her chin and finding himself unable to keep his lips from crashing against hers on their own accord.

 _Fuck_ , the taste of her tongue. He had to pull himself together if he wanted to be a gentleman and give her space tonight like he promised himself he would.

“Tell you what,” he whispered, breaking the kiss and bringing his hand down to her waist. “I’ll fuck you thoroughly first thing in the morning if you hydrate and get 8 hours of sleep.”

She huffed, plopping down onto bed and closing her eyes.

“You’d fuck me thoroughly first thing in the morning no matter what. Can’t seem to keep that masterpiece of a dick in your pants,” she mumbled, turning to her side and tucking her hands between her head and the pillow, a slight pout on her gorgeous lips.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her hair. “Want me to try and keep it in my pants?”

“No, thanks, I’m good,” she mumbled, already half asleep, and he chuckled again, inhaling her scent.

“And are you sleeping in your cute dress or should I get you a shirt?”

She opened one eye, ogling his chest.

“Can I have the one you’re wearing?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you want a clean one?”

“No, I want that one,” she insisted, and he couldn’t help but smile at how adorably unguarded she was in her sleepy, slightly tipsy state.  

“And that’s not a plot to watch me undress?” he teased, standing up as he removed his jacket, and she opened her other eye, feigning outrage.

“I’d _never_ ,” she breathed, licking her lower lip when he removed his t-shirt and placed it softly next to her, leaning down to plant kisses on her shoulder in the process.

“Gotta pee. Change. I’ll be right back,” he whispered against her shoulder, and she let out a loud groan when he stood up straight again, walking towards the bathroom.

It was for the best, he thought as he washed his hands, reaching for the toothpaste. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to control himself if he saw her peeling off that dress like he’d pictured her doing the entire evening. He sighed as he rinsed his mouth, undoing his belt as he left the bathroom, his eyes darting instinctively towards the bed.

She was sound asleep, dressed in his gray t-shirt and nothing else, apparently, as her dress lay next to her and so did her black lace underwear. He smiled wider, approaching her as softly as he could and grabbing her clothes, which he placed carefully on the armchair before removing his own pants and changing into a comfortable pair of sweatpants. She obviously had a very clear plan that ended up going south.

Slipping an old t-shirt over his head, he approached her again, careful not to wake her up. Her sleeping face didn’t have any of the spunky fire that fascinated him, but it did overflow with that soft, sweet vulnerability that she rarely let show.  As he drew near, the lamp on the nightstand cast shadows that accentuated her fanned out lashes and her defined cheekbones, and it occurred to him that she hadn’t taken her makeup off.

Knowing full well she’d beat herself up for it the next morning, he went back into the bathroom, opening the cabinet and grabbing the makeup wipes he kept at hand for the lazy days when he didn’t wash his face after the show.

Stepping carefully again, he sat down next to her in bed, and she hummed in her sleep, her eyelids fluttering when he started to clean her skin in gentle upward motions, trying his best to mimic the way she did it. 

She hummed louder when he started working on her lashes, frowning and turning her head, and he stopped for a second, unable to keep his mouth from smiling down at her half lit face.

“Shhhhh,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead, her cheek and then the corner of her mouth. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got you, baby.”

His voice seemed to soothe her, because her expression relaxed again and her breathing went back to its steady, heavy pace.

He finished his job as carefully as he could, throwing the wipe in the trash can next to his bed and finally turning off the lamp, crawling in next to her. She immediately turned to her side, and he bit back a chuckle, wrapping one arm around her waist and snaking the other one under her head as he pressed his chest against her back and nuzzled her hair. Even in her sleep she managed to coerce him into being big spoon.

He didn’t fall asleep right away, opting to enjoy the smell of her hair and the sound of her breathing for as long as he managed to stay awake.

How had he gotten this lucky?   _Him_ , of all people?

Back when he had trouble sleeping – back when nights were exceptionally long and the nightmares were exceptionally lucid – he’d come across a few apps that promised to lull you to sleep with nature sounds – the sea, mighty thunder storms, crackling fire. He remembered scoffing at the phone screen, getting up from bed and deciding to work in lieu of trying to sleep. Now, with Rey in his arms, the idea didn’t seem so absurd.   

The smell of her hair under his nose, the warmth of her body pressed flush against his, the cadence of the little puffs of air that escaped her rosy lips when she was dreaming – everything about her inebriated his senses, enveloping his brain in a comfortable, warm haze that made it almost impossible not to drift off. Maybe that’s what storms and waves did to some people, he mused, his thoughts going more incoherent with each long breath she drew in, her chest rising and falling slowly under his forearm.

In and out she breathed, dragging him further down with her each time, his brain mellowed by the scent of lemongrass and…

**KNOCK KOCK.**

His eyes shot open at the sound, and he pulled Rey closer to his chest instinctively. If his upstairs neighbor was drunkenly trying to get into the wrong apartment _again……_ Fuck, if that fucktwit _woke her up,_ he swore to God he’d…….

**KNOCK KOCK.**

He swore to God he’d punch him _through the fucking wall_. Clenching his jaw to repress a murderous snarl, he untangled himself from Rey carefully, and she winced at the loss of contact. He froze for a second, afraid he might have woken her up, but her breathing went back to its deep, slow rhythm a few seconds later. He let out a sigh of relief, rearranging the duvet more snuggly around her shoulders, making sure she was comfortable enough to enjoy the peaceful sleep she needed after what had…

**KNOCK KOCK.**

No. Fucking. Way. He marched out of the bedroom and towards the front door in half the strides it usually took him to get there, fists clenched, the sound of his own blood roaring in his ears. Punching Mitaka wouldn’t be enough for disturbing Rey’s sleep, no. He’d have to _choke him with his bare hands until_ …

He never got to perfect his murderous fantasy, because, when he opened the door violently, the eyes that met his own weren’t Mitaka’s. They were the same pair of chocolate orbs whose comforting warmth he’d tried to forget for so many years.

“Hi, Ben,” his mother said with a cryptic smile he knew all too well – the very same one she’d slap on every time she had to pretend whatever she was doing was less demanding than it actually was.

“Don’t call me that,” he mumbled emotionlessly, running his right hand through his hair as his left one stretched towards the doorframe, supporting his bodyweight and conveniently blocking Leia’s view of his living room. She just cocked an eyebrow, her smile never faltering.

“You don’t seem to take issue with _everyone_ that calls you that, do you? Especially not….”

“It’s two in the morning,” he interrupted her, trying to use his best intimidating tone even though he knew his mother was immune to it.

“Oh, yes, don’t you just hate it when people show up unannounced in the middle of the night?” she muttered sarcastically, shaking her head as she bent down and walked into the living room, ducking under his stretched arm. “Remember how your uncle Lando used to do that all the time? I swear to God he did it just to annoy me. His timing was always….”

“Did you want something?” he interrupted again, trying to keep the anxiety off his voice and failing miserably. The mere thought of standing there reminiscing about uncle Lando’s etiquette – or lack thereof – when he could be cuddling with Rey gave him the heebie-jeebies.

“Oh, tea would be great, thank you,” she answered with another infuriating smile, taking a few steps into his house and eyeing his bookshelves curiously.

“That’s not what I…. oh, _fuck me_ ,” he huffed, throwing his hands up in defeat as he made for the kitchen, careful to grab the kettle and fill it with water as silently as he possibly could.

“Your collection has grown. A lot. It looks beautiful,” he heard her voice say behind him, but he didn’t turn around to face what he knew to be a soft, playful smile. He didn’t answer, either, working in silence as her steps drew closer, a screeching sound indicating she’d taken a seat on one of the stools by the kitchen island.

“Breakfast, if you have it. Lightly brewed. A da……”

“A dash of milk, half a tablespoon of honey. I know how you take your tea, mother,” he blurted out in a hushed whisper, completely giving up on the indifferent façade he’d been trying to keep up.

When he turned to face her, waiting for the tea to brew, she wasn’t smiling anymore. She had one eyebrow cocked, though, and a twinkle in her eyes that deeply unsettled him for whatever reason.

“Of course you do,” she answered softly, not bothering to whisper like him, and his stomach churned. Why didn’t anybody understand Rey needed to _rest_?    

He sighed heavily, leaning against the marble counter, but his mother chose to ignore his overt frustration.

“Did you have a good time tonight? Glad to see you _mingling_ with your coworkers….” she said, the corners of her lips twitching upwards ever so slightly. The double meaning wasn’t lost in him, but he chose to ignore it, crossing his arms defiantly and clenching his jaw.

“Did you come to my house in the middle of the fucking night to comment on my social life?”

She licked her lips, interlacing her fingers and placing her joined hands on the countertop as her knowing eyes pierced his.

“You know why I came.”

“No, I don’t,” he whispered, letting out an exasperated huff and desperately praying for her to just _keep her voice down_.

He should have remembered she could read his mind. It had always been her superpower.

“Why are you whispering, Ben? Building’s pretty old. Thick walls. Pretty sure you could tap dance in here and the neighbors wouldn’t even know.” 

He pursed his lips, turning around to discard the teabags and throw half a teaspoon of honey hastily into each steaming cup. When he turned around again, Leia sat slightly hunched over, perched on her elbows, her chin resting casually on her interlaced fingers. 

She looked at him through her lashes like she could read his soul. She probably could.

“Rey’s asleep. She needs to rest. She’s had a rough night,” he answered, setting her tea down in front of her and purposely standing up while he sipped his, keeping the distance of the cold marble island between them.

“Oh,” Leia breathed, that twitch molding her lips again. “A _rough night_ , ha? Well, I mean, you _are_ a Solo man…”

  “That’s….” he huffed, setting his cup down and ruffling his hair in frustration. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

She shot him a full-fledged smile, cocking her head slightly before she sat up straight, letting her hands fall to her lap without breaking his gaze.

“How long?” she demanded simply.

He pretended not to listen, taking a long sip from his tea.

“How long, Benjamin?” she insisted, her voice going sterner and her lips going thinner. He knew that face.  Even at 35, it still made it impossible for him to just ignore her. He sighed heavily.

“What exactly are you asking me?”

“You know exactly what I’m asking you,” she murmured, her voice level. He couldn’t do the same.

“No, I don’t!” he retorted, his voice coming out louder than he’d intended. His eyes darted towards the corridor instinctively, and he drew in a deep breath before bringing his voice down to a frustrated whisper again. “‘How long _what_? How long have we been on friendly terms? How long have we been sleeping together?”

He clenched his jaw, anger simmering in his chest. “How long have I been in love with her?”

He regretted his words as soon as they slipped out, immediately wishing he could reel them back in.

He knew he loved her. Of course he did. He probably knew it before they’d even kissed; he’d probably known it since the aftermath of Cassian’s wedding, when the image of her hurt eyes had kept him awake for a week straight. But saying it out loud was something else entirely, especially to _her_. Especially _like this_.

To her credit, his mother looked taken aback for the first time that night.

“Did you… you’re…” she stuttered, furrowing her brows.

“Oh, right, sorry,” he said sarcastically, squaring his shoulders and gripping the edge of the island so tight his knuckles went white. “You probably thought I had _seduced_ your favorite just to _spite_ you, right? That I was using her to get to you? Fits the little narrative you’ve created about me to a T, doesn’t it? Cruel. Selfish. Uncaring. What else did you call me that night? The night I left?”

He let out a humorless, sarcastic laugh, unable to tear his eyes away from his mother’s shocked expression.

“Oh, that’s right. _Heartless._ ”

He just stared at her in silence for a few moments, his chest heaving, his teeth clenched so hard his jaw hurt. When it became clear she wouldn’t say anything, he spoke again.

“Sorry to burst your bubble. I’m with her because I love her.”

Both refused to look away or to speak again for a few more moments, the noise of a ticking clock filling the empty space left by the silence between them. And then the words escaped his mouth without asking for permission again, refusing to keep bottled up in the darkness of his chest now that they’d tasted fresh air.

“I _love_ her.”

He expected many responses from his mother. He expected her to confront him, call him a liar, tell him to stay away from her. Tell him he couldn’t _possibly_ love anyone but himself. He didn’t expect the words that left her mouth when she finally spoke, though.

“Does she feel the same?”

It felt like a punch to his stomach.

“What?”

“Does she love you back?”

All of a sudden he was painfully aware of the weight of his body, and his knees threatened to buckle under it, so he grabbed a stool and sat down in slow motion, staring at his whitened knuckles that were still clinging to the black marble.

“I….” he stammered, his throat clamping up. “I don’t know.”

He couldn’t muster the courage to look at Leia, not when his eyes were stinging so bad, but he could hear the kindness in her voice when she whispered her next words.

“You haven’t told her, have you?”  

He just shook his head in response, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Of course he hadn’t. How could he? What if she didn’t feel the same?

All the questions, doubts and fears he’d been pushing to a dark corner of his mind for months came flooding his thoughts, as if his mother’s words had imploded the dam he’d worked so hard to build, unleashing a violent torrent of thoughts he was unable to control. It engulfed him, threatening to drown him, clouding his senses to such an extent he didn’t even hear Leia standing up from her stool and walking around the kitchen island. In fact, he only realized she’d left her spot when she weaved her arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush against her chest and threading her fingers through his hair like she used to do when he was a child.

“Oh, Ben. My sweet boy,” she cooed, kissing the top of his head.

And then he _felt it._

That surge of energy that had flown between them for as long as he could remember; the warm, soothing aura that seemed to envelop both of them in a world of their own, allowing them to communicate anything that felt too big to be squeezed into words. The link that had once felt as natural as breathing and that he hadn’t felt for over a decade.  He never made the conscious choice to hug her back, but his arms wrapped around her middle anyway, desperately clinging to her on their own accord, trying to just _show_ her everything he couldn’t verbalize.

Hurt. Fear. Love. Anger. Regret.

She held him closer, and, when the steady beat of her heart echoed in his ears in time with his own pulse, he knew she felt it too.

“Love’s only this frightening when it’s real, sweetheart. And, when it’s real, it’s always worthwhile. No matter the outcome.”

“Even if the outcome is me being in it alone?” he whispered against her chest, wiping his tears on her soft khaki blouse.

“Do you feel like you’re in it alone?” she asked softly, kissing his hair again, and he drew in a big breath.

Rey’s smile flashed before his closed eyes, followed closely by the twinkle in her eyes when he teased her, the sweetness of her laugh, the warmth of her chest pressed against his.

“No,” he breathed, and Leia leaned back, grabbing his face gently and coaxing him to sit up straight so she could look him in the eye. When their eyes met, she tilted her head, smiling fondly as she wiped away a fresh tear from his cheek.

“Then you just need to give it time. Time has a way of guiding people to where they belong,” she murmured, kissing his forehead and lingering there for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry, mom,” he croaked, his eyes closed and his arms still securely wrapped around her middle. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when dad…”

“Shhhh,” she said against his forehead. “I know, Ben. I know you are. And that’s enough, sweetheart.”

Leia wound her arms around his neck again, and he rested his forehead on her shoulder, breathing deeply. Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke again.

“I’d give anything to go back to that night, you know? The night you left. My career, the network, my friends, _my life_. Anything to be able to take back the things I said.” Her voice cracked at the end of the last sentence, and she drew in a deep breath before she continued. “I was so afraid to lose you I lost myself. And then lost you anyway. I….. I can’t ask you to forgive me when I can’t forgive myself. But I need you to know that _I know_ it was the worst mistake I’ve ever made, Ben.”

Her words didn’t transport him back to that night, though. Not this time. They transported him to that balcony a few months before; to the blinding fear that had conjured up words he didn’t mean. To Rey’s wounded eyes. To his bleeding chest. To the feeling he’d sell his fucking _soul_ to be able to go back in time and take back his words. It was his turn to pull away, meeting his mother’s eyes with a sad smile.

“The worst mistake? Worse than that time you and dad went visit uncle Lando in Cloud City?”

She chuckled, a single tear escaping the corner of her eyes, sliding through the wrinkles he’d never thought he’d see there and rolling down her cheek.

“Yes, worse than that. A thousand times worse.”

She cupped his face, combing his hair away from it with her fingers and smiling as if nothing in the world mattered more than him, just like she used to do all those years ago. He placed both hands on her forearms, leaning into her touch almost involuntarily.

“Mom… about Rey…”

“Yes?” she urged him gently.

“Make sure you don’t give her any reason to think you’re upset with her, OK? Don’t even joke about it.”   

 One of Leia’s eyebrows almost touched the hairline of her elegant updo, and her eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Why in the hell would I be upset with her? I’m sure she knows...”

“She doesn’t,” he interrupted, clenching his jaw and pressing his lips together. “We’ve only kept it a secret because she wanted to talk to you first... To explain herself or whatever. She was convinced you’d be upset with her. Disappointed, even.”

Leia’s hands fell from his face and she knit her brows, clearly struggling to process what she’d just heard.

“What... that doesn’t make any sense. Why would I be _disappointed_? That’s like not telling someone they’ve won the lottery because you think they might be _disappointed_. You and Rey… I did allow myself to hope, in my wildest dreams, you wouldn’t end up killing each other. But _this_ …”

He chuckled, shrugging as he looked at his hands, now firmly clasped on his lap.

“You know her.”

It was Leia’s time to chuckle, placing her hands on his.

“You mean that stubborn, proud little thing who’d rather die than admit how vulnerable and insecure she actually is behind that gorgeous smile of hers?”

He looked up, smiling and nodding, and Leia returned his smile fondly.

“Maybe you two _do_ belong together, you two idiotic children…”

He was about to protest when the sound of soft footsteps coming from the end of the hallway sent his eyes darting towards the doorway.

“Ben, what the hell are you…” Rey grumbled, rubbing the sleep off her eyes as she dragged herself into the living room. When her hands left her face, starting to stretch towards the ceiling in a long yawn, she stopped dead in her tracks, her doe eyes going wide.

“Oh,” she mouthed, no real sound escaping her lips as she let her hands fall to her sides in slow motion.

Leia reacted before he could.

“Rey, sweetheart,” she said, letting go of his hands as she made her way around the kitchen island and into the living room. “Sorry we woke you up.”

Rey shot him a mortified look that made his heart clench, and then her eyes went back to Leia's.

“No, you… You didn’t…. I just…” she stammered, clearly tensing up as Leia approached her.

“You just woke up to find my clueless son had left you alone in bed. Isn’t that the worst?” his mother cooed, resting her hands on Rey’s shoulders before pulling her into a hug.

“Hey, you’re the one who…” he began to protest, but Leia raised a forefinger in the air, her back to him.

“Quiet, Benjamin,” she commanded, lowering her hand back to Rey’s back.

Rey just stared at him over Leia’s shoulder for a few moments, her arms hanging limply at her sides as his mother started to whisper something in her ear for just the two of them to hear. Slowly, painfully slowly, her forehead puckered and her lower lip quivered as she squeezed her eyes shut, hiding them away from him. She wrapped her arms around Leia’s middle tentatively at first, and then buried her face in his mother’s shoulder, nodding as she fisted the back of her khaki blouse. 

The two women just stood there for what felt like ages, rocking back and forth together almost imperceptibly, swaying with the wind of hushed whispers. Ben didn’t dare move. When they finally let go of each other and Rey opened her eyes again – when he got to see how bright and how relieved they looked – he finally allowed himself to breathe.  

“Well,” Leia announced, raising her voice so he could hear her and wiping Rey’s cheeks gently before taking a step back. “I’ll leave you kids to it, then. Be wise.”  

She walked towards the front door as she said those words, squaring her shoulders and throwing Ben a nod and a wink as she reached for the doorknob. 

“Or don’t,” she added, cracking the door open and looking back at them with a smile. “God knows I could use some grandchildren.” 

And then she was gone.  

“What the fuck just happened?” he heard Rey’s voice say behind him, turning around again to face her. She was standing in the middle of the living room, wiping her cheeks hastily. The movement made the T-shirt she was wearing – his T-shirt – ride up her toned thighs, a painful reminder of how naked she was underneath.  

“Leia Organa just happened,” he replied, his voice coming out hoarse.  

Rey nodded, fiddling with the hem of the shirt as he got up and walked towards her.  “Is she… is she really ok with this? Us?” she murmured tentatively just as he finally closed the distance between them, pulling her closer by the hips.  

“Did she tell you she was ok with it?” he asked, resting his forehead against hers without breaking eye contact. She just nodded.  

“Do you think she’d lie to you?” he insisted, and she pursed her lips, shaking her head.  

“No….” He smiled softly, nuzzling her nose.  

“She’s over the moon, baby,” he whispered, brushing his lips against hers, and she shivered, wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on her tiptoes to capture his mouth properly.  When her tongue slid between his lips, demanding full attention, he felt a familiar tightness begin to build inside his sweatpants.

Now, this wasn’t ideal.

He returned the kiss, cupping her face as he explored her mouth adoringly, but making sure he kept his hips a safe distance away from her body. She pushed her own hips forward, trying to grind against him, and he retreated another inch.  

“Ben, stop that,” she whispered against his lips, breaking the kiss to look him in the eye. “Whatever chivalrous bullshit you think you’re pulling, just stop. Please.” She closed her eyes, brushing her soft lips against his. “I need you right now. I really do.” 

He just stood still, breathing heavily as she lowered her hands towards his waist, running her fingers over his chest along the way and sending shivers down his spine. When she fisted his T-shirt, pulling his hips flush against her belly, he found himself unable to repress a lustful groan.  

“See?” she smiled, gravitating towards his lips again. “I knew you wanted me too.”  

“I always want you.”  

“So stop trying to be a gentleman, for fuck’s sake,” she groaned, capturing his lower lip urgently. “I _need you_.” 

Her pleading whisper finally undid him, and he deepened their kiss, threading his fingers through her hair and wrapping his free arm around her waist as he hoisted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist promptly, moaning against his mouth when her bare core pressed against his erection.

He groaned again, barely able to think as he carried her across the darkened corridor and into the bedroom. The bed was still warm when he laid her down on it, supporting his bodyweight on his forearms as he hovered over her, kissing her senseless. His spine tingled when she traced a lazy line down his back with her fingernails, stopping as she reached the hem of his T-shirt and pulling it upwards. When she reached his shoulders, he knelt in bed to finish pulling it over his head, and she sat up, kissing every inch of his torso that became accessible to her lips as he peeled off his shirt.  

Their chests were parallel now, rising and falling in the same frantic rhythm, and she leaned back slightly, her hands splayed on the mattress behind her, her eyes dark and her lips swollen. He took a second to take her in, her hardened nipples peeking through the fabric of his own T-shirt and her legs still wrapped around his waist even in their new sitting position. Her legs were spread wide, which meant the shirt was gathered around her lower abdomen, leaving her completely exposed from the waist down.  

He stared at her exposed sex unabashedly, slowly sitting down on his ankles and placing his left hand on the small of her back.  

“You took off your underwear,’ he murmured, trying to sound casual as his right hand wandered between her legs, index finger sliding slowly through her folds. She let out a soft moan, throwing her head back and starting to remove her own top, but he leaned forward, planting kisses on her jawline as his left hand left her lower back and grabbed her by the wrist. 

“Don’t,” he breathed against her neck, licking his way up to her earlobe and whispering again. “Leave it on.” 

The giggle that bubbled in her chest made his erection feel almost painful.  

“You like it?”

He scoffed at the mock naivety in her voice, his mouth traveling to the corner of hers, his hand still securely wrapped around her wrist.

 “It’s your fault. You and that goddamn selfie,” he groaned, capturing her lips in a deep kiss as he resumed his ministrations between her legs. The little huffs and whines that escaped her lips made his cock twitch with anticipation, and he pulled her wrist towards his erection, placing her hand on it.  

“That’s what you do to me,” he muttered, capturing her lower lip between his teeth, and she squeezed his cock through the thin fabric of his sweatpants, making him hiss. 

“So many clothes,” she smiled, hooking her thumb on the band of his pants and pulling it down. He knelt on the mattress again, allowing her to sit up straight and to bring her other hand to assist in sliding his pants and boxers down his hips. His erection sprung free as he sat back down on his ankles, pulling her by the waist until she was properly seated on his lap, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, knees sinking into the mattress on either side on his hips.  He snaked his right hand from her waist to her neck, squeezing her breast along the way and threading his fingers through her hair when they finally reached the back of her head.  

 _I love you_ , he thought, but the words had been securely hidden in his chest again.  

“You’re beautiful,” is what he said, caressing her lips with his own while he adjusted their position so that the head of his cock was pressing against her entrance, asking for permission. She seemed to be a good mind reader, too, because she held on tighter to his neck, whispering against his lips. 

“I need you, baby. Inside. Please.” 

And he needed her too. He needed the comfort, the fulfillment, the sense of belonging that being inside her gave him, so he rolled his hips forward, claiming her slowly, savoring every inch. She buried her face in the crook of his neck as he progressed, humming into his skin, and he caressed her scalp gently, breathing heavily.  

“This ok?” he panted, and her hair brushed his cheek as she nodded enthusiastically.  

“Don’t let me go,” she whispered, and he knitted his brows at the unexpected response, tilting his head to kiss her hair.  

“Never,” he promised into her chocolate locks, sliding out of her as slowly as he’d slid in and resting both hands on her waist. She let out a loud moan when he rolled his lips forward again, lifting her head and resting her forehead against his so she could look him in the eye.  

When their eyes met and their hips started to move in synch, he couldn’t even remember why he’d sought solace inside her in the first place, the deafening sound of the past dialed down to a faint whisper, replaced by the erratic symphony of her breathing.  They moved unhurriedly, his hands assisting her in meeting each slow thrust of his hips, his eyes firmly locked on hers, savoring each flicker of lust and pleasure that shone at him in hazel-green.        

He could almost swear she opened her mouth to say something several times, but he was probably imagining things, because she closed it again each time without saying a word, nothing but whimpers and moans falling from her swollen lips. She did pick up her pace every time it happened, though, their movements becoming feverish, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips and his thumbs possessively pressing down on her hipbones. 

“I have to…. I’m gonna…. Ben…..” she whimpered, and he growled, that familiar animalistic feeling simmering in his chest and his lower abdomen.  

“Do it. Come for me. I need to see you come,” he panted, sliding one hand between them to rub her clit frantically.  

The suppliant look that took over her eyes as her walls clenched around him was enough to push him over the edge, and he spilled inside her with one final thrust, her name falling from his lips like a prayer.  

He wrapped his arms firmly around her waist, peppering her face with kisses while they waited for their breathing to slowly go back to normal, the lazy circles her fingers drew on his back soothing him like a hallowed balm.  

“Rey,” he murmured, looking into her hooded eyes, and she smiled softly, humming.  

 _I l_ _ove you,_ he thought again, breathing deeply as he made sure the words were safely tucked away.  

“Will you go to the Emmys with me?” he asked instead, licking his lips anxiously.  

He’d been thinking about it nonstop, of course, and he had to ask her sooner rather than later. It _was_ a month away, after all.  

“What?” she breathed, leaning back slightly to take in his face.  

Shit. Had he asked too soon? He could feel his throat clamping up as she stared at him wide-eyed.  

“The Emmys, you know. In September,” he shrugged, trying desperately to read her expression.  

“But you never take anyone,” she murmured, leaning closer to him again, and he clenched his jaw, licking his lips.  

“No. Never have. Never had a reason to,” he replied, bringing his right hand to her face and stroking her cheek with his knuckles.

“Will you go with me?” 

Time moved in slow motion as her brows smoothed over and her lips curled into one of _those_ smiles.“I’d love to,” she whispered, nuzzling his nose, and he closed his eyes, wondering if a smile could _actually_ split your face in two.          

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens in chapter 15 - promise it won't take as long as this one did! Comments and feedback make my day. 
> 
> Love your faces! <3


	15. Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bold of you to assume I'd leave you hanging. 
> 
> *insert that Emma Roberts "I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me" AHS gif here cause AO3 won't let me*

 

She was dating a monster. A _monster._ It was the only plausible explanation.

“Why the fuck would you to that?” she snapped, swatting his hand away from the radio dial half a second too late.

He just huffed. He had the gull to actually _huff,_ not bothering to even look at her.

“You’ve been listening to that fucking song nonstop for _months_!”

“I have _not_ fucking......”

“I swear to God, Rey, if I have to listen about Ariana Grande’s exes _one more time_....”

“You’re a monster,” she stated matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over her chest and turning her head to look out the window. 

“Yes, I am,” he replied, and she could actually hear the smirk on his voice. Damn him and his stupid voice. “But you made me watch that godawful Jennifer Garner movie, so what does that make you?”

Oh, the _nerve_ on this man. She snapped her head back at him, her brows furrowed.

“Oh, so we’re _actually_ going to pretend you didn’t cry on that dream house scene?”

“You fucking brat.”

“No, you’re fucking the brat, I’m fucking the arrogant prick,” she retorted pettily, her arms still crossed over her chest. She was still deciding if she should throw in another insult for good measure when they stopped at a red light, and he took the opportunity to grab her face and press his lips to hers in a long, forceful peck.

“Shut up,” he smiled against her mouth, and she did her best not to smile back, which made her cheeks hurt. She blamed him for that, too.

“Make me,” she whispered, finally unable to hold back a grin when he beamed at her.

“My pleasure,” he whispered back,  capturing her lips in one of those deep, warm kisses that were just so _him,_ and now his scent was all around her and his tongue felt so delicious against hers that no one could _really_ blame her if she just snaked her hand up his thigh real quick and just-

“WAKE UP, FUCKER”, someone bellowed behind them, reinforcing the message with a long, obnoxious honk that made them both jump.

“Cockblocker,” Ben mumbled under his breath, and Rey giggled as the car lurched forward.

“Hope Yoda has brewed some chamomile for you today, Grumpy,” she smiled, pulling down the mirror to reapply her lipstick. In her effort not to pull a Jigglypuff on her own face, she failed to notice the shift in his expression.

“Yeah, about that…” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair as she turned around to face him.

“What, you don’t like chamomile either? Puppies? Do you like puppies? Little kittens dressed in tiny costumes?” 

“No… I mean, yes, but that’s not the point. I was just- just thinking that….” He sighed heavily, shrugging. “That, you know, my mom knows now. The Emmy thing means we’re going…. We’re going public, right? So maybe… maybe you don’t have to just walk the rest of the way anymore, you know? We can be… seen together and stuff.”

Rey smiled brightly, tucking her hair behind her ear. How this man could do the things he did to her and then be this shy over asking if he could just drive her to work from now on was beyond her.

“Yeah, no, I guess it makes sense,” she replied, sinking into her seat and turning her head to smile fondly at him. “I’ll have to tell everyone anyway… maybe Artoo will just blab to Rose and save me the trouble?”

He flashed her a side smile, all tension wiped from the corners of his mouth.

“Sounds likely, yeah.”

“Cool. Still wanna drop by Yoda’s, though. A girl needs her tea.”

“Sure,” he nodded, still smiling. “I wouldn’t skip the opportunity to finally meet the tea wizard in the flesh.”

“You’ll like him,” she grinned, resting her feet on the dashboard. “He’s half adorable, half insufferable. Just like you.”

It didn’t take them more than five minutes to get to Yoda’s Hut, and, as they pulled up outside the tiny shop, Rey felt anxiety bubbling up in her chest for whatever reason. _Maybe that’s what introducing your boyfriend to your family feels like_ , she thought melancholically, masking her thoughts with a smile as they stepped onto the sidewalk.

The familiar bell chimed as she opened the door, and, sure enough, two white cups were sitting on the battered counter.

“Come in, young Rey, come in,” Yoda’s disembodied voice croaked, and the tiny man appeared from behind the counter within seconds, looking up at her with an expression that resembled amusement.

“Morning, mr. Yoda,” she smiled. “I’ve got company today.”

“You’re the famous mr. Yoda, then?” Ben asked, placing a reassuring hand on the small of her back. Yoda’s eyes moved upwards slowly to meet the newcomer’s face.  

“Famous I know not, but Yoda I am indeed,” he replied, leaning against his cane with a curious twitch on his lips. “And you are….”

“Ben. I’m Ben.”

Yoda’s eyes twinkled.

“‘Tall’ I was going to say, young Benjamin.”

Rey bit her lower lip to repress a snort, and she could almost swear Yoda winked at her before he started moving remarkably fast towards a heavy looking vase that sat next to the counter.

“Get your tea, children, get your tea,” the old man insisted as he inspected the leaves on the dry-looking plant disapprovingly. When Ben moved to grab one of the paper cups, though, Yoda’s cane cut through the air with a swooshing sound, swatting his hand away.

“Ouch!” Ben cried, cradling his hand to his chest, but the old man just pointed his cane at the other cup.

“That one yours is,” he explained as if that should have been obvious, putting his cane down again and picking up the heavy vase with impressive ease.

“Don’t ask,” Rey muttered under her breath in response to Ben’s confused expression, moving to grab her designated tea while Yoda carried the vase towards the windowsill.

“Hmm, mr. Yoda? Do you need help with that?” she asked tentatively as she put the money inside the jar, but Yoda just waved his tiny hand in the air dismissively, rearranging the vases to accommodate the new one.

“This is a dicotyledon, you see?” he said as if that explained everything.

“Riiight….” Rey dragged the word, hand still hovering above the dusty money jar.

Yoda’s eyes met hers again as he bent down to grab a tiny watering can.

“It’s supposed to have flowers, young Rey. Beautiful ones, too. Yes. Beautiful ones,” he mumbled, humming disapprovingly as he watered the plant and ran his wrinkly fingers over its dry leaves. “But, you see,” he continued, “blossom without the sun it cannot. No, most definitely not. No flower can bloom in the dark, young Rey, not even the beautiful ones. Sunlight,” he waved his hand toward the dusty window, his eyes fixated on hers. “Yes, sunlight they need.”

Feeling her brows furrow and her head cock to the side on their own accord, Rey glanced over at Ben instinctively, and the look on his face made her glad she hadn’t done it before. She could just _barely_ avoid barking out a laugh.

“Oh, okay. Thanks for…. Hmmm.. teaching us about euco… Hmm. You know. Plants. Guess we should be going, right, Ben?” she jerked her head towards the door, and Ben seemed to snap out of his open-mouthed trance.

“Yeah… I mean, yeah, sure. Nice to meet you, mr. Yoda,” he stammered, following Rey to the door.

“Nice to meet you, young Benjamin,” Yoda croaked from behind his plants, and Rey shot him a final smile and a wave before walking out of the shop.

“You did say he was batshit crazy,” Ben admitted as he unlocked the car, and Rey nodded, smiling fondly back at the shop. The plants on the windowsill were still moving on their own, which meant Yoda was probably still working on them.

“Yeah. Try your tea, though.”

Ben’s eyes widened when he took the first sip, and Rey smiled at him over the rim of her own cup.

“Whoa.”

“I know,” she smiled wider, finally sliding into the passenger seat.  

 

_____________

 

“Baby, why don’t you just…. Tell them?” Ben murmured kindly, fingers running softly up and down her ribcage as she worked the oil into his skin with her fingers.

“I….” she paused for a second, biting the insides of her cheeks. “ Don’t know, I just assumed Artoo would spill the beans and make e _veryone’s_ lives easier, you know? But apparently he only runs his big mouth when he’s not supposed to,” she said for the umpteenth time since they’d started riding to work together, two weeks before. To Ben’s credit, he’d only rolled his eyes at her newfound scratched record tendencies twice. 

“Or maybe the news that you’re in a relationship with someone else has spread, and he’s just assuming I’m giving you rides for convenience,” he insisted in that infuriatingly logical tone. 

“Yeah, I mean…” Rey sighed, turning around to mix in his foundation. “It could be. If Artoo weren’t Artoo, that blabbing little….. Oh, _shit_ ,” she cursed as she squirted way too much Face and Body on her mixing palette.

“I actually do know Artoo. Old family friend,” Ben smiled, leaning back on his chair. “But that’s not the point. The point is, you _can_ just tell them, Rey. They love you. They won’t be mad. Dameron may even piss himself.”

The reminder of Ben’s budding friendship with Poe, mostly based on lighthearted insults, made her smile. Or maybe it was the fact that he seemed to have the power to reach right into her soul and say all the right things, because, if she was being honest with herself, that’s exactly what she was afraid of: that everyone would be mad she lied and…. Well, and abandon her, probably, because what else could they do? She let out a heavy sigh as she dabbed the blender into the foundation.

“Guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I? We’re two weeks away from the Emmys, and Rose will hack my nipples off if she finds it out on TV.”

“Oh, no, we can’t have anything happen to the nipples,” he mumbled, yanking her closer by the waist and kissing her breast over the fabric of her t-shirt.

“Ben, stop,” she giggled, trying to wiggle out of his grasp in vain. “You’re ruining my base.”

“Your base looks fine to me,” he groaned, wrapping one arm firmly around her waist and bringing his other hand to lift her t-shirt and pull her bralette down, exposing her (admittedly hardened) nipple.

“What did I say about - oh,” her protest morphed into a moan when he captured her nipple between his lips, lapping his tongue against it eagerly.

“About sex at work?” he mumbled in between licks. “You didn’t seem so opposed to it yesterday. In that bathroom near the break room. Or on Monday, on that loveseat over there. Or on…”

“Well, I’m opposed to it now, okay?” she panted, gasping when he bit at her nipple again and cursing her traitorous hands for putting her blender down so she could card her hands through his hair.

“Okay, okay, just….” she panted when he swirled his tongue around her nipple, hand sliding up toward her other breast. “Just make it quick, okay?”

He smiled against her skin, looking up at her with an infuriatingly smug look in his eyes. “I’ll do my best,” he drawled, and her legs were moving to straddle him on their own accord when a knock on the door caused them to jump.

“Holy fucking baby Jesus on a bike, Benjamin, I swear to God….” she mumbled under her breath exasperatedly, fixing her bra and pulling her shirt down as he shouted “Come in!”

“Hey, do you guys have a minute?” Rey heard Kaydel’s voice say just as she grabbed her foundation stained blender and turned towards the door, doing her best to look nonchalant.

“Sure, come in,” Ben said in the calmest of tones, and Rey made a conscious effort not to turn at him and ask _how the fuck_ ……

“You guys usually stay until after Poe’s show, right?” Connix asked, interrupting Rey’s train of thought.

“Yeah, why?” Ben asked, and Rey leaned against the wooden counter, desperate to look as casual as him. She apparently failed, because Kaydel raised an eyebrow, eyeing her suspiciously.

“You ok Rey?” she asked, and Rey stood up straight again, tucking her hair behind her ear. She could actually hear Ben biting back a snort behind her.

“Yeah, just…. Just running a little late with Grumpy’s makeup here. Do you need me after Poe?”

“Leia needs everyone, actually. Asked me to get as many people as I could to come to Poe’s studio after the show, I think she has some sort of announcement to make.”

Rey frowned, the tingling feeling around her nipples slipping to the back of her mind.

“What sort of announcement?” she asked, and Connix just shrugged.

“Beats me,” she admitted, fixing the walkie-talkie on her belt. “But it sounded important, said she _needs_ everyone there.”

“We’ll be there. Thanks, Kaydel,” Ben said behind her, and Connix shot them a tight smile before closing the door behind her.

“That’s never happened before,” Rey whispered as soon as they were alone again, turning to face Ben.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s probably something content related,” he mumbled, grabbing her hand gently and planting a kiss on her palm, right under her thumb. She didn’t miss the frown that had settled on his face, though, or the fact it was still there when she kissed him goodbye and left his dressing room an hour later.

 

_________________

 

“Do you think we’ll finally start producing series?” Rose murmured excitedly, collapsing on an empty seat next to Rey.

“Ohhh, I hope it’s Sci-Fi, bet Rey could come up with some badass aliens,” Finn’s voice mirrored Rose’s excitement from the row right behind them, and Rey turned around to face him.

The dozens of rows that had been filled with Poe’s laughing audience twenty minutes before were now slowly being occupied by RBS producers, hosts, cameramen, writers, costume designers. Rey could see her own worry reflected in some of their eyes, so she tried to keep her eyes on Finn.

“I don’t think that’s what this is, babe,” Poe murmured, squeezing Finn’s hand before she could say the exact same words.

“You’re such pessimists, both of you,” Finn huffed, looking back and forth between Poe and Rey.

“Yeah, Paige’s been acting like Christmas was cancelled, too,” Rose chimed in, turning around to face Finn and Poe as well. “Brighten up, guys. Worst case scenario, she’ll announce they won’t be able to replace the coffee machine or something. It was crap anyway.”

Rey swallowed down her urge to disagree, focusing on keeping the anxiety that had been simmering in her chest since that afternoon from growing. The task got particularly hard when her eyes met Poe’s and he gave her a knowing nod, lips tense and jaw clenched.

“Am I late?” Ben’s voice called from Rey’s right, and her eyes darted towards him. His eyes locked on hers, but the sight of them didn’t soothe her this time like it usually did. The anxiety she found in them, akin to her own, made something cold curl up in her stomach.

No one else seemed to notice, though.

“Nah, just in time to tell these doomsayers they have nothing to worry about,” Finn answered as Ben took the seat to Poe’s left.

“Yeah, no, it’s probably something to do with ratings or the timetable or something,” Ben waved dismissively, his jaw still clenched.

“See, sis? Kylo thinks it’s nothing too,” Rose yelled over at Paige, who was finally making her way up the stairs to the seat next to her sister.

“Yeah, he sure as hell looks like he thinks it’s nothing,” Paige muttered as soon as she reached their row, throwing Ben a knowing glance before sitting down.     

Rey was still turned to the row behind her, facing her friends, when Poe visibly flinched.

“Yeah, Leia looks great too,” he announced somberly, and Rey’s head snapped towards the stage.

Admittedly, she hadn’t seen Leia in two weeks – not since that night at Ben’s, not since...

_How can I thank you, Rey? How can I possibly thank you?_

Rey shook her head, trying to focus on the version of Leia that stood before her now. No, she hadn’t seen her in two weeks, but she was fairly sure no one could age that much in such a short time span. The president walked slowly towards the stage, shoulders squared and head held high, but something in her tired, sunken eyes and in the way her hands were clasped over her chest made Rey’s stomach sink.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” she muttered under her breath, but no one seemed to hear. Silence had fallen over the studio like a cold, humid shroud, murmurs and whispers drowned out by the deafening echo of Leia’s steps.

And then she stopped.

“Thank you. Thank you for waiting. I know you have things to do, trains to catch, families to get back to….” the smile she shot as her eyes roamed the room didn’t reach her tired eyes. “So I really appreciate your patience.”

Silence grew so thick it managed to choke even the most optimistic of them, if Rose’s hand squeezing Rey’s to the brink of pain was any indication.

“Out of respect for your presence and your time, I’ll go straight to the point,” Leia’s voice echoed again, stronger now. “We lost a big sponsor today. Vergesso Distribution contacted me this morning to inform they’re withdrawing their support.”

The words crawled down Rey’s skin like cold, lifeless fingers, lifting gooseflesh along their way. Kaydel’s voice reverberated through the silence before they had completely sunken in.

“That’s… that’s alright, though, isn’t it? We’ve operated with far less sponsors than we have today, Leia. I mean, I can easily cut production cost on _Up close_ by….”

“Kaydel,” Leia interrupted kindly, and all eyes turned to her again. “They’re not the only ones, sweetheart. We lost Dantooine Telecom on Friday, Asterios Banking before that.”

The shuddering breath the president let out before continuing cut right through Rey’s flesh.

“We’ve lost six big sponsors in the span of two weeks.”

It was as if the shroud hanging above their heads had finally enveloped them in its frigid cloth. All-encompassing, it blurred visions and elicited ragged breaths, its rustling sound whispering the words no one dared say out loud.

_It’s Snoke._

Rey wouldn’t be able to tell how much time she spent wrapped in cold dread, gasping for air, her ears buzzing, before his voice pulled her out of it.

“I quit.”

Rationally, she knew what she’d heard and she knew who’d said it, but it took her body endless seconds of stretching silence to finally turn around and confirm it.

“I quit,” Ben repeated, honey eyes defeated, jaw clenched, hands hanging limply at his sides.

Leia let out another deep sigh, closing her eyes tiredly.

“Kylo, sit down, please.”

“I quit,” he repeated simply, starting to move down the aisle to make his way to the door.

“You’re contractually bound to this network, so, no, you don’t get to go anywhere. We’re here to discuss strategies, so please _sit down_ while we go through our options, _Kylo_.”

Leia’s voice was icy and stern, every word sharply enunciated. Commanding. Rey could see it in her now - the unwavering mother.

Ben stopped in the middle of the aisle, eyes locked on his mother for what felt like centuries. When he laughed, it sounded like nails on a chalkboard in Rey’s ears. She shuddered.

“ _Strategies_? Ways to try and save _Rebel Broadcasting System_ from _Snoke_? Like you even _stand a chance_?  Or are we going to pretend this isn’t Snoke’s vendetta against _you_ for hiring _me_? Are we going to pretend me being here isn’t the issue?”

Every syllable that left his mouth shook with anger, and every cell in Rey’s body screamed for her to stand up and stop him.

 _Don’t do this, Ben. Please, don’t go this way,_ her brain begged, but her mouth and her legs didn’t move. The standoff playing before their eyes seemed to have a hypnotic quality, chaining everyone to their seats, sealing mouths.

It was just Ben and Leia in a crowded room.

“Yes, this is Snoke’s vendetta,” Leia answered, visibly struggling to control her tone. “And no, you leaving won’t solve anything. It won’t make a difference. This isn’t about you, not for him. This is about power.”

“You prefer to let all these people lose their jobs, then,” he spit coldly, the implications of his words hanging above every head in the room, thick and dark.

“Are you even listening?” Leia raised her voice, exasperation finally peeking through her façade. “It won’t make a difference! And even if it did, this is _family_. We don’t leave anyone behind. Do you understand?”

“What I _understand_ ,” Ben retorted, matching his mother’s tone, “is that you’re denying what’s right in front of your nose because you refuse to let me go. _Again_!”

The last word fell out of his mouth in a pained howl that seeped right into Rey’s breaking heart, stinging and burning as it made its way through the cracks.

“Again, mother,” he breathed in a defeated murmur, half pained, half resigned, his deep voice filled with tears.

Rose’s grip on Rey’s hand became crushing, but she had a hard time paying attention to anything around her – the exchanged looks, the choked gasps, the widening eyes.

His words seemed to break the spell everyone else was under, but Rey was still bound.

She didn’t seem to be the only one who remained oblivious to the presence of other human beings in the room, though.

“Ben, sit down, please,” Leia pleaded, her lower lip starting to tremble.

When Ben resumed his march towards the door, fists clenched, Rey couldn’t tear her eyes from Leia.

“Ben,” she called again, louder this time, when he reached the foot of the stairs.

“Benjamin!” Leia begged one last time, but he was out the door before the last syllable had left his mother’s lips.

Rey didn’t know what finally broke the spell. Ben’s absence, maybe, or maybe the silent tear that rolled down Leia’s cheek. Perhaps it was her own blood roaring in her ears, the hot, tingling feeling spreading through her body or even Poe very audibly muttering “holy shit” right behind her.

Maybe it was a combination of all those things that pushed her to her feet and forced her legs to follow Ben’s steps, dodging other legs until she reached the aisle and starting her descent towards the heavy iron doors.

“Rey, honey,” Leia called softly, and Rey’s legs froze on their own accord. At that moment, she could feel every pair of eyes in the room on her. She might have heard whispers. She wouldn’t know.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

It took a while for Rey’s ears to process Leia’s words and for her eyes to decipher her expression. There was sadness in it, of course, grief and concern, but something else lingered right underneath the surface.

For a split second it sparkled in her eyes like a coin underwater, and Rey understood.

“Are you afraid he’ll _hurt me_?” she murmured, the words almost refusing to leave her mouth. “He’s not a monster, Leia!”

“No, no, that’s not…..” Leia stuttered closing her eyes. When she opened them, sorrow was all Rey could see. “I just think he might want to be alone.”

“No one wants to be alone,” Rey’s mouth spit before her brain could protest. “Being alone sucks.”

Leia opened her mouth to answer, but no sound came out while Rey walked the rest of the way out of the studio and into the empty halls.   

Dashing through long corridors towards Ben’s dressing rooms felt like an out of body experience, her panting breath and the buzzing noise in her ears drowned out only by one persistent word playing over and over in her head.

_Ben. Ben. Ben._

She grew so used to the way it sounded in her brain it was almost weird, hearing her voice say it out loud right outside his door.

“Ben?” she called tentatively, sweaty fingers pressing gently against hard wood. She hadn’t realized her hands were shaking.

Silence filled her ears for a few seconds, and her hand travelled to the door knob hesitantly, turning it slowly.

He was sitting in his chair, bent forward, his face buried in his hands, elbows on his knees. Thick rivulets of blood sprouted from the back of his right hand, dancing down his forearm and falling rhythmically on the floor.

Only when her gaze followed a droplet of blood all the way to the ground did she see the shattered glass that littered the floor, partly painted crimson. Her eyes shot up to the ruined mirror on the wall, wandering slowly back to the floor, to the overturned table of snacks, to the violently colorful packs of candy scattered across the room.

“Those were some perfectly good Skittles, you know,” she mumbled, her voice feeling rusty. He didn’t raise his eyes to meet hers.

“Rey, I…. I think you should go.”

She bit her lower lip to stop it from quivering, taking a step closer.

“And why would I do that?”

“I don’t want you to…. To see…”

When he finally lifted his head, she was already close enough to touch him, smell him, feel his warmth.

“To see what? You?” she whispered softly, running her fingers through his hair. “That’s inconvenient, ‘cause you’re the only person I wanna see right now.”

“Rey,” he whimpered almost inaudibly, leaning into her touch with a pained frown.

“Let me see that,” she whispered kindly, lowering her hands carefully to cradle his injured one.

A violently red gash snaked around his knuckles, but it looked superficial enough to be taken care of at home.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches. Hold on,”

She moved expertly around the room, opening drawers and gathering everything she needed – clean towels, a bottle of fresh water, rubbing alcohol, cotton pads. She set everything carefully on the table next to his chair, pouring water on a clean towel and kneeling in front of him.

“Gimme,” she asked, taking his hand again and cleaning the blood away carefully, her brows furrowed in concentration. She could feel his eyes fixated on her.

“We’ll patch you up properly when we get home, but I need to clean it up as well as I  can,” she explained apologetically, setting the blood stained towel down and pouring rubbing alcohol onto a cotton pad.  When the liquid touched the split skin on his knuckles, he hissed, pulling his hand away instinctively.

“Hey,” she looked up at him, finally meeting his eyes. They were red rimmed and swollen, defeated and impossibly tired. “Trust me on this one, ok? I’ve got a medical degree. All fifteen seasons of Grey’s Anatomy of it.”

She smiled kindly, but he didn’t smile back.

“Ok, so we’re going to act like I’m not funny now,” she mumbled, resuming her work on his hand. As soon as it looked clean enough, she reached out for a clean face towel, wrapping it carefully around the wound to stanch the blood.

“I can’t stay,” he said in a broken whisper when she was almost done, but she kept her eyes on her work.

“Ben,” she muttered softly, applying pressure to the makeshift bandage, “I know this is the last thing you wanna hear right now, but your mother’s right.”

She looked up at him again, determined to hold his gaze, to make him _understand_.   

“He won’t stop. Now that he’s started, he won’t leave us alone. With or without you, we’ll have to face him. The only difference is that we don’t stand a chance without you.”

She brought his bandaged hand to her lips, kissing it tenderly.

“Your show has the highest ratings, the most sponsors. It’s a pop culture phenomenon. It’s _powerful_.”

Another kiss, this time on his wrist, right over his pulse point.

 “You’re our meal ticket, Ben Solo.”

She smiled faintly at him, but he didn’t smile back.

“You’re our only hope.”

“I caused this, Rey. I brought this upon everyone.”

The self-loathing in his voice wrapped itself around her heart, squeezing it tight.

“No,” she said firmly, jaw clenched. “No, you didn’t, Ben. Snoke brought this on us. _Snoke._ You’re a victim, just like the rest of us,”

He shook his head, agony twisting his handsome features.

“If I hadn’t….”

“If you hadn’t been hired by Leia, you’d be working somewhere else. Writing. Bartending. Dog walking. Whatever. _And he’d follow you wherever you went, Ben._ He’d still try to destroy you. This isn’t about you working here, this is about him thinking that he owns you. That you belong to him.”

Her voice cracked slightly at the end, and she bit her lower lip again, her hand coming to rest on his thigh, squeezing it reassuringly.

“And he manipulated, belittled and humiliated you for so long you started to believe it yourself somewhere along the way. But you don’t, baby. You don’t belong to him. This is your chance to break free, once and for all.”

“You don’t understand,” he shook his head, a silent tear escaping the corner of his eye. “I know…. I know what I have to do. I just…. Rey, I don’t know if….. shit!” he cursed, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Hey, look at me,” she demanded, standing up and positioning herself between his legs as she cupped his face with both hands. “ _You_ don’t have to do anything, okay? _We’ll_ do it. Together. All of us. And even if we fail,” she drew in a deep breath, holding back tears. She had to hold it together. She could break down later. He needed her now. “Even if we fail, we’ll still have each other. I’ll be here. Always.”

“I know what I… but I can’t, Rey. I….. and I don’t wanna lose you. I can’t lose you. I….”

“You won’t,” she interrupted, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

“But you-“

“I love you.”

She didn’t mean to say it, of course. Not there. Not like that. It just sprouted out of her, though, stretching lazily towards the sunlight, opening its petals into fresh air like a flower that blooms overnight on your windowsill, catching your eye and taking you by surprise while you sip on your poorly brewed morning coffee.  

It hung between them for endless seconds of deafening silence, threatening to be crushed by the sound of their breathing until Rey couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I love you. All of this – all of you. Bad foot massages, bad music taste, busted mirrors, wasted Skittles. I love you, Ben.”

Her new words joined her previous ones, hanging thickly in the air, growing heavier with each new second of silence. She waited for Ben to say something. Anything. Anything but the wide eyed stare, the slightly parted lips, the heavy puffs of air that would leave his lips now and then. She probably shouldn’t say anything else, right? Right, just keep quiet and….

“Or I was totally joking, if you don’t-“

“I love you,” he finally choked out, standing slowly, eyes locked on hers. “Fuck, Rey, I love you.  I’ve loved you for so long.”

She didn’t know when his good hand ended up in her hair, how she ended up pressed flush against his chest or how the dampness in her cheeks had ended up there. There wasn’t much she was able to remember through the wave of relief and euphoria that had suddenly overtaken all her senses.

“Thank God, that was getting pretty awkward pretty fast,” she sighed, her voice muffled by the crook of his neck. He snorted in response, his face buried in her hair.

“Say it again,” he whispered, and she smiled against his skin.

“You suck at foot massages.”

There- that. His laugh. That was the only thing she needed to feel like everything was going to be ok.

“It’s not your fault, though. It’s your abnormally huge hands,” she murmured, leaning back to smile up at him. He smiled back this time – not the smile she wanted to see on his face, but the one he could give her right now. It was enough.

“I love you,” he repeated, brushing his lips softly against hers, and she closed her eyes, reveling in his touch.

“I love you too. Ready to go home?”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers, and she smiled wider, intertwining their fingers.

“C’mon, Solo. We’ve got Chinese leftovers to finish and a war to win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *crawls out of the hole she’s been hiding in*
> 
> Hi. So…. Yeah. That hiatus happened. Sorry? Long sob story short, saying life’s been hard would be the understatement of the century. As a result, I ended up writing this chapter about a billion times and scratching the entire thing out each time because I thought it was Chernobyl level trash and no one would ever want to read it. But, hey, something magical happened yesterday (shout-out to Like_A_Dove) and I finally told my Virgo/OCD/depressed ass “Hey, you know what? My babes deserve to know how the story ends, even if it sucks balls.” So here we are! I won’t make any promises, but my plan is to upload weekly until we’re done with this story. I’m sorry again, thank you for your patience and I still love your faces very much. 
> 
> Leave a comment or come say hi on tumblr (yes, I'm still there) if you’ve got questions, suggestions or if you just want to give me a virtual hug! 
> 
> To my Brazilian babes: vai um suco de laranja aí, manas? Rçrçrç


	16. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: Last week was Carnaval week in Brazil and my samba school won here in Rio, so MANY doses of cachaça (neat, my fave) were harmed in the making of this chapter. Pardon my drunken writing. 
> 
> Fun fact: in Brazilian Portuguese we don’t say “my samba school won! :) ”, we say “AQUI É ESTAÇÃO PRIMEIRA DE MANGUEIRA CARALHO, PUTA QUE PARIU, ATRÁS DA VERDE E ROSA SÓ NÃO VAI QUEM JÁ MORREU PORRA!!!!” and I think that’s beautiful. 
> 
> Ok, now to the red carpet fluff/drama I owed you.

 

“Ok, ok, hold on, quick recap.”

Poe leaned forward, perched on the edge of the shabby loveseat in the MUA’s lounge, a piece of pastrami dangling precariously from the edge of his sandwich.

“So you hated Kylo Ren, but then you didn’t hate Kylo Ren anymore, then you developed a _humongous_ crush on Kylo Ren,”

“And then she did the nasty with Kylo Ren,” Finn added, his mouth filled with a generous bite of his meatball sub. Poe snapped his fingers and pointed at him.

“Yes, exactly, then you did the nasty with Kylo Ren.”

“Can you guys please stop saying....”

“Rey, manners,” Rose interrupted, cradling her milkshake between her crossed legs. “He’s recapping.”

“Thanks, Rose,” Poe proceeded, clearing his throat. “But turns out Kylo’s name is actually _Ben_ , as in _Ben Solo_ , Leia’s estranged son.”

Paige sighed heavily, wiping her mouth on a napkin.

“You’re literally just repeating everything she just said, Poe.”

“Hey, I’m just making sure this is actually happening. I mean, don’t you think it’s _insane_? _Rey getting laid_?” Poe asked in an alarmed whisper, making everyone laugh. Rey couldn’t help but smile, her mind wandering back to what she’d found on her phone when she’d gotten home the previous night, a wave of relief washing over her all over again.

 

*

 **_Rose:_ ** _Rey, everything ok?_

 **_Paige:_ ** _Yeah, let us know how you’re doing, please._

 **_Finn:_ ** _Both of you._

 **_Rose:_ ** _Rey? It’s been a while, babe. We’re heading home, the lounge is clear if you wanna get your stuff._

 **_Rose:_ ** _Just keep us posted, please._

 **_Poe:_ ** _Rey? We’re worried._

 **_Rey:_ ** _Hi, guys. Sorry, just got home. I’m fine, don’t worry about it!_

 **_Rose:_ ** _Oh thank god, I was about to go to your place._

 **_Rey_ ** _: Not @ my place atm, boo._

 **_Poe:_ ** _Juicy_

 **_Finn:_ ** _Poe!_

 **_Poe:_ ** _Sorry._

 **_Poe:_ ** _Is he ok, Rey? Kylo_

 **_Poe:_ ** _Ben_

 **_Poe:_ ** _Sorry, we’re kinda lost._

 **_Rey:_ ** _He’s doing better. Just had him call Leia, they talked for a while._

 **_Rey:_ ** _I’m really sorry, guys._

 **_Rey:_ ** _For keeping you in the dark._

 **_Rey_ ** _: Like, really really really sorry_

 **_Paige:_ ** _Don’t you dare, Rey._

 **_Rose:_ ** _Don’t you dare apologize or I’ll give you a reason to be sorry._

_*_

“Well, I’m just glad it’s out in the open now. And thank you guys for being so cool about it,” she shrugged, picking at her fries.

“Oh, she’s about to start apologizing again, isn’t she,” Finn sighed dramatically. Poe answered with a theatrical eye roll.

“Of course she is, that’s what she does.”

“No, hear me out,” Rey insisted, licking some ketchup off her thumb. “I meant to tell you guys – what? It’s true, I did!! I just wanted Leia to know first, and then I just couldn’t seem to find the right time.”

“Yeah, that part doesn’t add up, by the way,” Rose narrowed her eyes, pointing at Rey with the straw on her milkshake. “Why would you think Leia would be mad at you?”

Poe agreed with a vehement nod.

“Yeah, I don’t even think she’s physically capable of being mad at you. You could probably spit in her face and she’d be all _oh, Rey, honey, that was such a lovely spit! Well done, sweetheart!_ ”

His impression was so spot on Rey had to cover her mouth to muffle a snort.

“Guys, guys, wait a second,” Paige raised her voice above the laughter, patting Rose repeatedly on the thigh. “Did Leia already know at Poe’s party? You know, when we…..?”

Rey just shook her head, still laughing, wiping tears from the corner of her left eye with the back of her hand.

“Shit!” Finn cursed, bringing both hands to his head as a second wave of laughter filled the room.

“It’s ok, guys, you couldn’t have known,” Rey reassured them, popping another fry into her mouth. “Just glad you’re not mad.”

“Peanut, would you stop saying that? We’re just so _happy_ for you!”

“Yeah, he seems like a nice enough guy. You know. Sometimes,” Poe agreed, shrugging. “Just make sure you let us know next time something _big_ is happening. Like, you’re quitting makeup to become a ventriloquist or something.”

“Well….” Rey muttered, picking at a loose cuticle.

“Oh, shit, what is it?” Paige asked, a concerned frown on her face.

Rey shrugged noncommittally, looking down at her crossed legs to avoid eye contact.

“I’m going to the Emmys with him.”

“WHAT???” her friends bellowed in unison, and Finn jumped to his feet in one swift movement.

“With him?? As in, his plus-one?”

Rey just nodded, eyes still glued to the carpeted floor, her cheeks hurting from smiling.

 “He’s never gone public with a relationship, has he?” Paige asked, bouncing up and down excitedly on the floor. Poe and Finn answered with vehement shakes of their heads, and Rose squealed.

“My ship is so _canon_!!!! Who’s doing your makeup?? What are you wearing??”

Rey smiled, fiddling with her top bun to keep her hands busy.

“I’m doing my makeup, I guess. And Jyn’s stylist is showing me some dress options tomorrow.”

“Nooo, you can’t do your own makeup!” Rose protested with a pout. “It’s your Cinderella day!”

“It’s my job, Rose,” Rey smiled, rolling her eyes. “Makes no sense to waste someone else’s time.”

“Ok, what about the dress? Anything specific in mind?” Paige pressed, leaning forward and biting the sides of her thumb nail.

“I suggested something green,” Rey admitted, tucking a stubborn tendril of hair behind her ear. “Ben likes me in green.”

“Argh, why do I have a feeling we’ll get cavities just from being around those two?” Poe asked, trying his best to look disgusted but betrayed by the smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Cause we will,” Rose answered. “Haven’t you seen the way he looks at her? Like she invented oxygen or something? Seriously, guys, it was _right there_!”

“In retrospect, yeah,” Paige admitted with a warm smile.

As her friends started to move to gather empty containers and dirty napkins, a sudden feeling of safety and warmth washed over Rey’s body, pushing the words that had been haunting her out of her mouth.

“Do you guys think he’ll be there?” she asked, crumpling up a bunch of napkins and throwing them inside a big paper bag. She did her best to sound casual as she finished the question. “Snoke?”

She could feel the air inside the room shift without even looking up.

“I don’t think so, no,” Poe finally murmured after a stretch of tense silence, filled only with the sound of crumpling paper.

“He never goes to these things. He knows he isn’t Leia, you know,” Finn agreed, a frown forming between his brows.

“There will be First Order people there, though,” Poe added, sounding a bit too nonchalant for his casualness to be convincing. “The ones that have been nominated, at least. Hux, Phasma, Datoo. You know.”

A cold shiver licked Rey’s spine as the words sank in, and she stood up, her legs tingling from the lack of circulation.

“Right,” she rasped, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. “Right, sure. What’s the plan, by the way? We left before Leia discussed it. Obviously.”

The tense chuckle that escaped her throat had no humor in it. She felt Rose and Paige looking at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to return their gaze.

“Leia said she’ll bring out her big guns. Try to ‘convince’ people to stop jumping ship, whatever that means,” Paige explained, her voice much lower than before.

“Meanwhile we’re supposed to cut production costs as much as we possibly can,” Rose added, her tone strikingly similar to her sister’s. “Less cameras. Electricity rationing. No more coffee or snacks in the break room. That kind of thing.”

Rey nodded, swallowing around the lump in her throat.

“Yeah, right. Right. Sounds like a plan.”

It didn’t sound like it would be enough, but that went unsaid in the thick silence that followed.

 

____________________

 

For the first time that day, Rey could actually hear the sounds coming from the street and entering Ben’s apartment through the window along with the early afternoon sunshine.

“You didn’t have to kick everyone out, you know,” she whispered against the crook of his neck, sealing her words with a brush of her lips against his skin. Ben sighed softly as the brush became a kiss, nuzzling her hair and running his hands up and down her ribcage, caressing her skin through the thick fabric of the fluffy robe she was wearing.

“They were making you uncomfortable”

She smiled, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his jaw.

“I’ve gotten people ready for awards before. I know the world of shouting agents and hyperactive producers well enough, thank you very much.”

 He just grumbled low in his throat, kissing her hair.

“But they were making you uncomfortable.”

She’d lean back to look him in the eye – she really would, if his aftershave and his cologne didn’t smell so obscenely good.

“ _Overwhelmed_ is a better word. Never been on _this_ side of the whole thing, you know.”

“It can be overwhelming,” he agreed as he leaned down to kiss her neck, his right hand sliding up to cup her cheek. “You can still say no, if you don’t feel comfortable. Stay here. Order Chinese.”

His breath was hot against her skin as it travelled upwards, coming to rest on the corner of her lips. 

“Actually feeling a burrito today,” she smiled softly, her lips gravitating towards his. “After the show, of course.” If she didn’t know his lips so well, she would have sworn they hadn’t even touched hers when he kissed her. “After I get my free champagne.”

She’d never get used to the way his eyes lit up when he smiled like that.

“As you wish, princess,” he murmured softly, tracing her jaw with his thumb and kissing her again, less softly this time. “Just squeeze my hand if it gets too much. Ignore the questions, they’re designed to make you say things you shouldn’t. And don’t look straight at the flashes.” 

“Really calming my nerves, thanks,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You’ll be fine.”

When he said it like that, she could almost believe it was true.

“Ok, let’s get you ready, we’re running late,” she said, taking a deep breath as she untangled their bodies.

“Aren’t you doing your makeup first? You were doing your hair.”

She shook her head, taking his hand and starting to pull him towards the bedroom.

“Nope. My hair’s done, but my makeup will take longer. Wanna get you ready first so you can get dressed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed with a side smile.

She raised an eyebrow, swatting his arm.

“Wipe that look off your face, Solo. We don’t have time for anything else.”

“Don’t we?” he asked, taking her in his arms again. “Such a shame.”

And she really would resist his lips enveloping hers; his tongue sliding slowly into her mouth, licking the back of her teeth. She would, if it didn’t feel like heaven.

Hell, on the other hand? Hell was the banging on the door that tore his mouth away from hers.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he cursed, running his fingers through his hair exasperatedly as he stomped towards the door.

“Ben, don’t yell at them,” Rey pleaded, but he was already pulling the door open with an impressive amount of excessive force.

“What did I tell you when…”

“BEN SOLO!”

Rey blinked a few times, her shocked expression mirroring Ben’s as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing or at least get her eyes to stop hallucinating.

Because it had to be a hallucination.

 “Maz?”

“REY NIIMA!” the tiny woman yelled, walking past Ben with her arms crossed firmly over her chest. “Care to explain yourself?”

“Wh-what are you…” Rey started to stutter, but Maz shut her up with a wave of her hand.

“Are you _insane,_ child? Doing your own makeup for an award ceremony? This is your _Cinderella_ _moment,_ you porcelain skinned _fool_!”

 “That’s what I told her,” Rose stated happily, pushing a large, silver makeup case through the door.

“Rose, what are you doing here?” Rey asked in an exasperated whisper, feeling incredibly hot all of a sudden.

“Your boyfriend’s makeup, of course,” Maz said matter-of-factly, waving her hands impatiently. Rey shook her head vehemently.

“No, I was going to…”

“Oh, she did a perfectly good job on his face while you were moping around nursing your broken heart, didn’t she?”

“Hey! Nice place!” Rose said to Ben, setting Maz’s case down in the middle of the room.

“Hey,” Ben answered, his eyes comically wide.

“Maz, how did you know….” Rey tried to ask, but the tiny woman interrupted her again, pushing her huge glasses up the bridge of her nose.   

“Do you really think I don’t meet Leia twice a week for mimosas?”

“Gin,” Ben stated flatly from across the room, apparently coming back to his senses. “They meet up for gin. Neat.”

“Do you need me to let your girlfriend know what you used to do with your little weenie whenever your mom had people over, boy?”

It was enough to send Ben’s face right back into a state of shock.

“Didn’t think so,” Maz nodded, a pleased glint in her eyes as she turned back to Rey. “Now show me your dress so we can decide the color palette, child. C’mon, we’re in a bit of a time crunch here.”

 

_______________

 

“Stop moving, kid! This zipper’s stuck.”

“You think it won’t zip up?”

“It will zip up if you stop trying to catch a glimpse of yourself in the window. Now suck in.”

Rey drew in a deep breath, holding it in and staring out the living room windows until Maz let out a triumphant cry behind her.

“Beautiful, just beautiful,” the old woman murmured, a motherly smile settling on her face as she fluffed out Rey’s skirt.

“Can I look at the makeup now?” she asked, excitement and anticipation flooding her chest.

“Bend down a little, let me just fix your hair,” Maz asked, and Rey obeyed reluctantly.

“Maz….”

“Calm down, child, you have to see the whole picture,” she insisted exasperatedly, fixing the curly tendrils of hair Rey had strategically left out of her low chignon.

“So… how do I look?” she asked when Maz finally hummed approvingly, allowing her to stand up straight.

Her mentor smiled brightly, fluffing her skirt out again before taking her hand.

“Like a princess. Come.”

She’d tried the dress on before, of course. Rationally, she should be ready to see it again in the mirror: the thin spaghetti straps making her shoulders look slim and regal; the ruched, plunging bodice hugging her torso like it had been sewn on her body; her narrow waist accentuated by a thin belt and by the ethereal pleated skirt that seemed to float around her legs when she moved, hitting her just below the ankles.  Rationally, the fact that it was a pretty dress shouldn’t surprise her.

Logic didn’t stop her reflection in the mirror from muttering “Holy shit” under her breath at it looked her in the eye, though.

She turned her neck to the side ever so slightly, the warm light of the corridor making the glow of her skin look almost divine.

“Holy shit,” she repeated, louder this time, leaning closer to check her eye makeup. Maz’s reflection smiled brightly behind her.

“I adapted it to your style,” she said, winking, and Rey couldn’t bring herself to do anything but nod.

The thinnest of winged liners rimmed her lash line, its masterfully crafted shape making her eyes look more doe-like than she’d ever seen them. The overall effect was amplified by a mauvish brown blended to perfection through her crease and by wispy individual lashes placed strategically under her natural lashline, which made them look like they were her own. But the skin – it was the skin that left her speechless. Glass-like was the only way to describe it; smooth, soft and dewy, like her own skin had been replaced by a veil of satiny velvet.

“You’re a genius, Maz,” she murmured, her fingers hovering above her cheek, not daring to touch it.

“The canvas helps,” Maz replied with a twinkle in her eye,

“What did you use for contour? Holy shit, it’s like I was born with perfect cheekbones.”

The older woman just patted Rey on her thigh, shaking her head in amusement.

“No, no, no, no work talk for you today, child. Just enjoy your evening, will you?”

Rey might have insisted hadn’t she been too busy admiring the ethereal glow her cheekbone seemed to radiate whenever she moved her face under the light. A few moments of comfortable silence stretched between them, with Maz fixing and smoothing out her dress with loving hands.

“I’m happy, you know? For both of you,” Maz finally said, searching for Rey’s eyes in the mirror. “Consider this my blessing.”

Rey didn’t trust herself to talk around the lump forming in her throat, so she just nodded.

“And if he hurts you, kick his ass. God knows that boy can be an idiot sometimes.”

A very inelegant snort escaped Rey’s chest, and she turned around to face Maz with a smile.

“Thank you. It means a lot,” she choked out, and Maz frowned, taking Rey’s hands in hers.

“No, no, no, don’t you go crying on my work, it’s way too pretty,” she answered, and Rey laughed again, looking up to stop a tear from falling. Just as she was making sure no water had touched her lashes, the bedroom door creaked open.

“And then this one time she was working on this pig-like creature and the prosthetic nose got stuck – no, like, really stuck, she created some kind of spirit gum remover resistant latex by accident, I swear to God – and then she called me, so Paige and I had to – Holy shit.”

Rey knew Rose was staring at her, but it was Ben’s face she was looking at when the smile he had on his lips slowly faltered, his eyes going slightly hazy as they wandered up and down her body.

“Holy shit, Rey, you look….” Rose stuttered, walking closer with something that looked suspiciously like tears in her eyes.

“Like a princess?” Maz suggested in an amused tone, but Rey wouldn’t know what expression she wore to match it. Her eyes were still locked with Ben’s.

“Like a queen,” Rose rectified, wrapping her arms around Rey. “So, _so_ stunning, babe,” she cooed, and Rey felt her eyes stinging again.

“Like what you see, Benjamin?” Maz asked in the same amused tone, and Ben’s mouth opened and closed twice without emitting any sound before he finally answered.

“Yes.”

“Would you look at that, Rose? You were right about him looking pitiful around her.”

Ben didn’t even protest.

 “C’mon, you two, Paige asked for a picture,” Rose announced, bouncing a little as she took Rey’s hand and hauled her back to the living room.

“There,” her friend pointed at the large windows, “Right by the window. More natural light.”

When they didn’t move, Maz chimed in impatiently, both hands on her hips.

“Take your girl, boy, c’mon. We don’t have all day.”

When Ben placed a warm hand on the small of her back without saying a thing, guiding her to their designated spot, Rey started to seriously worry about him.

“You ok?” she whispered as they stopped by the window, and he placed a second hand on her waist, turning her so they were face to face.

“More than ok,” he rasped, his eyes burning holes into hers. “You look….”

“Good?”

He returned her expectant smile with one of the wide, open grins that did _that thing_ to his face, and suddenly breathing became a huge chore.

“More than good.”    

“Good,” she whispered, her smile widening as she ran her hands up his chest. “Holy shit is this a velvet tux? God have mercy on my…”

“C’mon, lovebirds, you’re late,” Rose called, putting her phone back in the pocket of her jeans.

“What? Weren’t you taking a picture for Paige?” Rey frowned, turning to face them with Ben’s hands still on her waist.

“Already did,” she shrugged. “Had to snap one real quick before I got type 1 diabetes just from looking at you two making bedroom eyes at each other.”

“We weren’t….”

“Oi, children,” Maz said with a snap of her fingers, her other hand holding a glass of whiskey. Where it had come from, Rey had no idea. “It’s 5. Get moving.”

“Holy shit, I told Chewie to be here at 4:30,” Ben cursed, grabbing Rey’s hand as he made for the door.

Maz’s eyes widened over the rim of her glass.

“Chewie?”

“Yeah, Maz, Chewie. Enjoy my bourbon,” Ben shot over his shoulder, and Rey waved Rose a final goodbye as they made it out of the apartment. 

A pleasant warm breeze was blowing outside, and it tugged lightly at Rey’s dress as Ben opened the car door for her, sliding into the backseat once she was comfortably seated.

“Hey, Chewie,” he smiled, closing the door. “You remember Rey, right? From Dameron’s birthday?”

The huge man sitting behind the wheel grumbled something Rey didn’t understand, the sound of his deep voice muffled by his beard. Rey did remember him vaguely, although she had to admit the ride back home from Poe’s birthday was a bit of a blur.

Ben seemed to understand him just fine, though.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, we lost track of time.”

The man grumbled again, and Ben tapped his foot impatiently on the floor.

“Yes, she’s way out of my league, Chewie. Can we please just go now?”

With one last grumble Ben didn’t dignify with an answer, Chewie pulled out, and the car roared gently as it sped down the tree-lined street.

“You nervous?” Rey murmured, tracing lazy circles right above his knee.

“What, about people knowing you’re out of my league? I think that ship has sailed.”

She chuckled softly, smiling as he took her hand between his.

“No, jerkface. About the award.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking at her like she’d sprouted a second nose.

“What, my nomination? No, of course not. It’s Dameron’s category, I stopped bothering with nerves a long time ago. I just go for the drinks and free food.”

“Who knows? I could be your lucky charm.”

He smiled brightly, running his thumb up and down her wrist, right over her pulse point.

“I don’t need an award to know that. It would suck if I got it, though. Don’t even have a speech.”

“Well, you should thank the crew for putting up with you. And me for making your face tolerable so you don’t scare the little kids.”  

He let out a raspy chuckle, his eyes pure honey as he leaned in to plant a feather light kiss on her jaw.

“Will do. What about you?”

“What, my acceptance speech?”

Another feather light kiss, a hairbreadth away from her mouth.

“Are you nervous?”

She licked her lips, assessing the state of the knots in her stomach.

“A little. Yeah.”

“You don’t have to be,” he whispered, tilting her chin upwards so that her eyes would meet his. “You just follow the marks on the carpet, ignore the assholes and remember I’ll be right next to you all night. And that I love you.”

She smiled brightly.

“It’s a pretty long list, could you write that down? What was that last thing again?

He locked his jaw, visibly trying to repress a smile.

“It was ‘you’re insufferable, but I love you.’”

Just as she was about to protest, another deep rumble came from the driver’s seat. She hadn’t realized they’d pulled up.

“This is it. You ready?” Ben asked, moving to open the door. She nodded, taking a deep breath.

 When he extended his hand to help her out of the car, they were already screaming his name.

_Kylo._

_Kylo!_

_KYLO!_

_Over here!_

“Mr. Ren, thank God. You’re up next. It’s Rey, right?”

Rey blinked at the girl in front of her, trying to make sense of her surroundings. When she didn’t get an answer right away, the producer fixed her headset anxiously. She looked incredibly young.

“Y-yeah. Yeah. Rey,” Rey stuttered, fixing the skirt of her dress. The girl smiled sympathetically, starting to guide them through a small crowd of people wearing badges. In the distance, voices were still shouting for Ben.

 _Kylo._ For Kylo. 

“It’s your first time, right?”

Ben’s hand became heavier on the small of her back. Her body understood.

_I’m here._

“Yeah, first time,” Rey tried her best to smile, looking down to see if everything looked ok.

The producer threw her another understanding smile.

“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it? But it’s pretty straightforward. You just walk,” she shrugged, unclasping the red rope that hung between two golden poles and granting them access to the carpet. “They’ve been informed you won’t be taking questions today, Mr. Ren.”   

“Good, thank you,” Ben nodded, throwing Rey a quick glance before he guided her forward.

And then all hell broke loose.

Or maybe a dam had collapsed.

Was this what it felt like, being hit by a tidal wave?

_Kylo!_

_KYLO!_

_Mr. Ren!_

_REY!_

They were blinding, the flashes.

Or were they gunshots?

Hard to tell when Rey’s eyes wouldn’t adjust and her ears wouldn’t stop ringing. The incessant clicking noise followed them to the first mark on the carpet, and Ben stopped, wrapping his hand around her waist and tucking her into his side.

He leaned down, pressing his mouth to her left ear. The one that was turned away from the photographers. The clicking became deafening.

“I know. Breathe. I’m here.”

His voice pulled her back from her stupor like an anchor would hold a ship being tossed around by a storm. His hand squeezed her waist, gentle and warm, and, when she looked up at him, she managed to smile.

As they moved from one mark to the next, she did her best to keep smiling in the direction of the flashes. Sometimes her smile would need refueling, and only then would her eyes search his. They’d always be staring back at her, sweet and golden.

When her ears started to adjust, she began to pick up random words lost in the chaos of clicking and shouting.

_Award. Marriage. Contract. First Order. Ratings. Prenup._

She tried to string coherent sentences with them, but none of them made sense.

And then it was over.

“Are you ok?”

Rey blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the white orbs floating in her vision.

“Yeah… Yeah. I think so.”

Ben ran the tip of his fingers up and down her bare arms, barely touching her skin. She let her body relax against the textured wall behind her back, only then realizing he’d swerved them into some kind of empty adjacent room on the corridor that led to the theater’s grand entrance hall.  

“You sure?” he insisted, a shadow crossing his worried eyes.

“Yeah, It’s ok. Thank you,” she murmured earnestly, smiling up at him.

“For dragging you through the seventh circle of hell?”

“For having really big hands,” she said softly, tilting her head. “That can push me through the seventh circle of hell.”

“I’ve been told they give the best foot massages,” he whispered with a side smile, leaning in to plant a peck on her lips.

“I could use some water, though,” she admitted against his lips, her mouth feeling impossibly dry now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

“Stay here, I’ll get you some,” he said, kissing her again before he walked away. 

She let herself slump against the wall, breathing deeply as her eyes fluttered closed. The worst part was over, she thought triumphantly, a smile coming to her lips uninvited.

She hadn’t _even tripped_ , and now she’d get to enjoy being by Ben’s side the whole evening, with the whole world knowing he was _hers_. She wasn’t exactly proud of how puerile that thought sounded, but no one ever had to hear it, anyway. It could be her own private, guilty victory. She smiled wider, taking another deep breath.

Had she had her eyes open, she would have seen him coming.

“You did have a price, then.”

The slimy, ice cold voice cut through her happiness like paper, and all of a sudden all that was left in her stomach was cold dread.

“Pity. I would have doubled the offer. Tripled, maybe. Turns out you clean up well, Rey.”

Her name felt dirty on his lips, tainted by malice and spite. She resisted opening her eyes, afraid that actually seeing his pasty face and vibrant red hair would make it more real.

The vulnerability of her position forced her to open her eyes, though, so she did, feeling bile rise in her throat when his pale blue eyes pierced into hers, dripping with some unspeakable, revolting emotion.

“Go fuck yourself,” she spat, her voice coming out surprisingly strong. “Aren’t you _cancelled_ , after all the _disgusting shit_ you said on national television?”

He smiled that smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, stalking closer almost imperceptibly.

“Oh, Rey, the _things_ that money can do… You should know, actually. It got Ren a pretty little…”

One second it was the sound of his voice filling her ears; the next, it was the nauseating sound of crushing bones.     

A blur of dark hair, black velvet and – _Ben, he smelled like Ben_ – launched itself on top of Hux as he tumbled to the floor, holding his nose, blood flowing through his fingers and down his hand. A massive arm clad in velvet drew back one more time, and the sound of bones breaking filled the cramped space again.

“Get off me, you….” Hux’s voice said, distorted by blood, and Ben – _Ben, it was Ben_ – grabbed him by the lapel of his tux, smashing him violently against the granite floor. With his head bouncing on the stone, his face coated in sticky red, Hux reminded Rey of a rag doll.  

Ben’s arm drew back again, loading another punch, and then stopped. It took Rey a few seconds to realize her hands were wrapped around it.

“He’s not worth it, baby,” she rasped, her grip on his biceps surprisingly firm. “Leave him, he’s not worth it.”

He stood in silence for a moment, his right arm still flexed, his left hand still firmly clutched around Hux’s lapel, his knuckles white. For a nerve-racking moment, Rey was sure he’d unleash the punch. He started to stand up slowly instead, shaking from head to toe, his pupils taking over the entirety of his caramel irises. Rey moved to stand between the two men, cupping Ben’s face and forcing him to look at her. When he did, it was as if he couldn’t quite see her, his eyes frantic and filled with rage.

“It’s ok, I’m fine. He’s not worth it. It’s ok,” she cooed in a loop until his eyes focused on hers again. His hands were shaking when he placed them gently on her arms, looking at her from head to toe as if he expected to find visible wounds.

“You get anywhere near her again,” he whispered, his eyes leaping over Rey’s shoulder to find the broken man on the floor. His voice was so low pitched and shaky she could barely hear it. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. “You _think_ about getting anywhere near her again, and I swear to God I’ll fucking kill you.”

He panted heavily, his jaw working furiously under her fingers.

“You’re _over_.”

She didn’t expect to hear laughter coming from behind her, but the croaky sound she heard, muffled by the unmistakable gurgle of a mouth filled with blood, sounded a lot like it.   

“ _I’m_ over?” the cold, distorted voice said. “I think _you_ are over. _All of you_.” Disdain dripped down his chin along with his blood. “What do you think the chances are of your little band of rebels surviving Snoke?”

She could feel Ben’s jaw clenching under her fingers as his body got ready to attack again; could feel the boiling, murderous rage rolling off his body in waves. What she didn’t feel was her own body turning around, her right foot hovering above the pitiful man’s groin for a split second.

She did feel it when the red sole of the nude Louboutin on her right foot met his balls, though. She felt it when the soft flesh gave under the pressure; when her heel came mere inches away from solid granite as she just _squeezed_. And, most importantly, she heard the wail of pure agony that left his mouth as his blood covered hands reached for his groin, his body twisting around on the floor like a cockroach, gasping for air.

“Let’s go,” she heard her voice say as she grabbed Ben’s hand. “I want champagne.”

They were only a few feet away from the entrance of the front hall when he tugged at her hand, making her stop and turn to face him.

“We can go,” he murmured, his hands still shaking as they reached to cup her face. “We don’t have to stay. It doesn’t matter. We can…”

“No,” she said firmly, her hands coming to rest on top of his. They were shaking, too. “We’re not giving him that. We’re not giving him _anything_. He will leave, not us.” She drew in a deep breath, forcing her hands to still. “Not me.”

Ben’s eyes roamed her face, apparently looking for any trace of hesitation. She guessed he didn’t find any, because he nodded curtly, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs until their breathing went back to their normal rhythm. Her hands slid down to his forearms, squeezing reassuringly.

“I’m fine. I am. I’m actually feeling kinda…”

She looked at him, trying to identify the unexpected feeling in her stomach.

“Fulfilled?”

The corners of his lips turned upwards ever so slightly at the word, and he looked down at her as if….. Yeah, as if she’d invented oxygen. She had to give Rose that.

“No blood on your clothes, by the way,” she smiled, her eyes wandering down to the crisp white shirt stretched over his broad chest. “Impressive.”

He definitely smiled this time, and his lips were drawing closer to hers in slow motion when they stopped only inches away.

 “There you are!” she heard Finn’s voice exclaim to her right, turning around to find the source.

He was walking towards them with a beaming smile, looking gorgeous in a deep plum tux. Poe followed right behind, his hair bouncing around his face as he struggled to keep up.

“We should have guessed they’d be making out in a dark corner,” Poe smiled as Finn enveloped Rey in a tight hug.

“We weren’t….” she began to protest, but Finn held her at arm’s length, his eyes widening.

“Holy shit, girl!”

“Yeah, you look like a goddess, Rey,” Poe nodded, turning to Ben. “Nice tux, dude. Recycled couch from your dark lair?”

“No, from your mom’s place,” he rasped, his eyes still slightly hazy but his hands steady. He cleared his throat before completing the jab. “Ready to lose tonight?”

Poe laughed wholeheartedly, patting Ben on the shoulder.

“Yeah, sure. Try not to cry when I’m giving my speech. People would gif the shit out of it.”

“As much as I’d love to keep hearing your old lady bickering, there’s free champagne over there,” Fin interrupted with a smile, grabbing Poe’s arm. “A flute before we go in?”

“ _That_ would be perfect,” Rey smiled, taking Ben’s hand and squeezing it gently as they made their way to the grand entrance hall.

When they finally started to make their way to their seats, she was admittedly about three flutes in, feeling considerably more relaxed and, against all odds, happy.

“Look, it’s Oona,” she whispered to Ben as they took their designated seats among the RBS cast and staff, Finn and Poe sitting right beside them.

“Who?” he whispered back, a confused frown on his face.

“Never mind,” she said, smiling when he nodded and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

 The buzz from the champagne had mostly worn off by the time Jyn and Cassian walked onstage to deliver the opening skit. Or maybe it hadn’t, judging by how hard she laughed at every single punch line the couple delivered with hilarious, casual nonchalance.

“And, as everybody in this room must know, unless you’ve been living under a rock…”

“…. Or in James Snoke’s lair…..” Jyn finished her husband’s sentence, smiling coyly as the audience burst into laughter.

“…RBS has been going through a rough patch. Rumor has it someone’s trying to shoot them down….”

“Which is absolutely preposterous, of course. Who would want to do that?” she asked, feigning indignation as the camera closed in on the rows occupied by the First Order Network staff.  

“Hey, hey, hey, wait a second, that’s unfair,” Cassian frowned, looking up at the huge projection screen. “Are you suggesting Snoke couldn’t handle the Rebels’ skyrocketing audience just because a certain part of his anatomy hasn’t skyrocketed in _decades_? That’s mean!”

The audience roared with laughter again, and most people around Rey clapped excitedly.

“Well, come to think of it, honey,” Jyn added, looking up and scratching her chin. “People’s sex lives _do_ seem to go uphill as soon as they leave the First Order. Did you see what Kylo Ren had on his arm today?”  

Rey felt her face burn when the camera closed in on her, covering her eyes as if trying to protect them from the sun and sinking into her seat, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

 “Hey, Rey! Looking good, girl!” Jyn winked, smiling brightly.

“Looking good indeed, Rey,” Cassian agreed, raising an eyebrow. “Makes you wonder what Kylo did to… wait. Do you guys hear something?”

Right behind him, Jyn covered her mouth discreetly, whispering in an outstanding impression of Rey’s voice.

“Help me…. Please help me…. He’s keeping me locked in his basement.”

“Oh, ok, that explains it,” Cassian sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets as Rey hid her face in the crook of Ben’s neck, laughing uncontrollably.

“How about Dameron and Trooper, you guys?” Jyn continued, walking back towards the center of the stage. Rey kept her head on Ben’s shoulder for as long as it felt acceptable.

She’d thought the awarding part of the ceremony itself would be long and tedious, but she soon found out she’d been wrong. Everything felt so interesting and new she could barely tell the hours were going by as she cheered and clapped, whispering her bets to Poe and Finn and smiling wide every time Ben reached for her hand, caressing her palm softly or bringing it to his lips to kiss her knuckles one by one.

A few hours in, she was so engrossed in the spectacle she didn’t even realize what category was coming next.

“And now here are the nominees for Outstanding Variety Talk Series…..” Ezra Bridger said, with Ahsoka Tano smiling brightly at his side.

Rey giggled when Poe leaned over to stare at Ben, his face twisted in an expression that was probably meant to look menacing. Ben just smiled, shaking his head and taking Rey’s hand again, kissing it casually when his name was announced. His shoulders were relaxed and he nodded casually when the camera closed in on him, making it clear he had no intention of winning. Rey kept her eyes on his face, her smile widening. Despite his lack of interest in the whole thing, she felt excitement bubbling in her chest – Poe’s acceptance speeches were always the best part of these awards.

“And the Emmy goes to…..” Ahsoka announced, opening the envelope and pausing for what felt like an eternity.    

“Yup,” she finally said, looking over at the crowd. “Up Close with Kylo Ren!”

As she was still staring at him, Rey got to witness his face in real time as every cell in his brain seemed to work frantically to make sense of what he’d just heard.  She jumped to her feet, still holding his hand, her smile threatening to split her face in two.

“That’s you, prick!”

For a moment, she really did think he’d never move again – that she’d have to come visit him in the theater if she ever wanted to see him again. That’s why she was startled when he finally stood up, yanking her by the waist and pressing his lips to hers.

“Boooo, gross!” she heard Poe yell behind her, and she smiled against his lips, her hands splayed across his chest.

“Go get it,” she whispered, and he smiled, letting go of her reluctantly.

The music around them became louder just as Poe patted Ben heavily on the back. On his way towards the stage, someone a few rows below them pulled him into a long, tight hug.

He returned Leia’s embrace with a bright smile.

A warm, prickling sensation flooded Rey’s eyes, intensifying when Ben walked towards the microphone, the golden statue looking like a tiny toy in his hands.

“Now, that’s a plot twist,” his deep voice echoed through the room, and the crowd chuckled. “How are you doing back there, Dameron? Waterworks under control? Yeah? Good.”

Poe booed again as the camera looked for him in the crowd, and Rey laughed openly.

“I don’t have a speech ready for obvious reasons, so I won’t even try to remember every name I have to thank so I don’t get in trouble,” he continued, his eyes fixated on the award in his hands. “I’d just like to thank the whole crew for putting up with me…”

Rey laughed again, her heart swelling when she recognized her own words.

“….. The producers, of course – Kaydel, I see you - and the writing team for making me sound considerably smarter than I am. I owe you guys this one. I’d also like to thank Leia Organa for believing in me and offering me a home – a true home – when no one else would, and for making sure I had true creative freedom for the first time in my career. This,” he raised the statue, searching for his mother in her crowd, “I owe to you.”

All around her, the rebel staff started to spring to their feet, cheering and whooping, frenzied by the clear jab at the First Order. Already standing up, Finn and Poe whistled loudly with their fingers.

“As someone's already pointed out tonight,” he continued, pointing to where Jyn and Cassian where sitting, “that very same spirit of openness and creativity; of freedom and autonomy is under attack at the moment. Little do the attackers know we’re called the Rebel Broadcasting System for a reason.”

Deaf – Rey was going to go deaf from the noise that erupted around her.

“Someone asked me earlier today,” he rasped, his voice lower and darker, and everything went silent. “What I thought the chances were of RBS winning the battle. Well,” he smiled sadly down at the golden statuette, lost in a world of his own for a few seconds. When he came back, Rey could tell his eyes went straight to Leia. “As a great man I once knew used to say, never tell me the odds.”

He held his mother’s gaze for a few seconds, waiting for the applause to subside, and then, even in the distance, Rey could tell his eyes went searching for hers.

“Finally, I’d like to thank Ms. Rey Niima for accepting to live in my basement with little to no resistance.”

He smiled as the crowd erupted in laughter. “And for spending an hour and a half, five days a week, doing her best to make sure my face looks tolerable so I don’t scare the little kids.”

Tears finally streamed freely down her face as she smiled, her heart hammering violently against her ribcage. She couldn’t bring herself to care.

“But also for shining so bright she can illuminate even the darkest of places. Even my heart. Even my soul. Thank you. I love you.”

When he left the stage, Rey could have sworn about three quarters of the people in the room were giving him a standing ovation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, two things: 
> 
> 1) @uh_no_thanks drew this (https://mobile.twitter.com/UhNoThanksAnya/status/1087241371272921094) STUNNING piece inspired by this story, and I don’t think any language in the world has words that are strong enough to describe how fucking happy that made me. You can thank her for Hux’s broken nose and busted balls, ‘cause back in chapter 9 she asked me to get Hux punched, so I wrote that scene in as a little thank you nugget. Love you, boo. <3 
> 
> 2) I’ve been doing so much better, guys! Thank you so much for all the love and support. You’re literally the best <3 
> 
> I’ve actually been feeling really inspired lately, so I finally decided to start writing another Reylo story that had been haunting me for a while but that I was super insecure about. It’s and A/B/O You’ve Got Mail AU, so if that’s your thing and you’d like to give it a go, that would make me super happy! It’s called Adrift and you can read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18033206/chapters/42611741. Chapter 2 should be up on Friday! 
> 
> Love your faces <3 
> 
> PS.: In case you're into the visual stuff, Rey's red carpet dress is this one (https://assets.vogue.com/photos/5b3a2996203eed2501cf8f2a/master/pass/_DIO0459.jpg) from the Dior Couture 2018 fall collection. How gorgeous would Daisy look in that? Ben wears Adam's infamous velvet tux (Golden Globes 2019, I believe).


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